The Lords of Morning and Evening
by pbluekan
Summary: Harry, suffering from the grief of losing his only family, looks for a way out, a new start away from the memories of those he has lost and the ones he is afraid to lose. What he finds is not a new beginning, just simply a beginning. Post OoTP; Following TSR
1. Prologue - Grief and Leave-Taking

**THE LORDS OF MORNING AND EVENING**

******Prologue - Grief and Leave-Taking**

Disclaimer:

I own nothing, all works are copyright of JK Rowling and Robert Jordan for their respective works of fiction.

**A/N**

Ok a couple quick things before I get going. This is my first work of fiction so keep that in mind, but be brutal in the reviews (baseless praise is entirely useless). I have a great memory for detail in fictional universes so I will try to stick to cannon themes/spellings/physics/magiks and characterizations as much as possible unless it is necessary for my story. However this is an AU story for both universes and should be treated as such. If I miss any details, or mess any details up please let me know and I will correct them.

Most of the beginning of this story will follow and change the events of TSR that happen to Rand.

This story will be rated M for prolific use of swearwords(I like them they add a certain darkness and grittiness to dialogue and storytelling I won't overuse them I promise) some slightly explicit scenes (not smut) as well as themes of blood, gore, and violence.

* * *

_**"**__the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."_

Harry was numb. The world was buzzing around him as the last words of the fateful prophecy rang in his ears. He watched Dumbledore's mouth move as he spouted useless platitudes, but the only thing on Harry's mind was grief. Sirius, Mum, Dad. His whole family lost, for what? A fucking prophecy? No, his mum and dad died to save his life from Voldemort, meaningless at this point because he was going to die to the same madman anyway, and Sirius died protecting him from his own ignorance of a prophecy that foretold his death. So, they were lost for nothing, literally nothing, and for that reason alone, Harry wanted to leave. He wanted to leave everything and everyone, and he wanted to leave NOW.

Harry rose from his seat, his head buzzing as he slowly turned to the door. He barely registered Fawkes' mournful song or the pained expression on the headmaster's face. He walked from the room; his stride was smooth, outwardly at ease. As he passed the stone gargoyle, his calm façade shattered and Harry began to run. He sprinted, stumbling, his mind clouded and tears streaming down his face, down the seventh floor corridor.

The fact that he ended up staggering back and forth in front of the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy several times was entirely lost to his grief stricken mind, as was the presence of a weeping fiery haired girl and a slightly pudgy, brown haired boy his own age, with an expression of saddened determination on his features.

_I just want to go away I don't want to be here, not anymore._  
_  
Please just anywhere or when, just not here and now._

_I just want to leave. Please! I just want to get away!_

The door appeared at the end of the hallway and Harry, followed by his two unnoticed companions rushed inside. Within was something so strange that the two young teenagers could only stop and stare as Harry rushed down the stone steps to the pillar in the center of the room.

The room was in the shape of a massive flat bottomed bowl, the side adjacent to the entrance was incised with eight stone stairs, Green, Blue, Gray, Brown, Yellow, Red, White, and Black. In the center was a massive stone pillar with thousands of small symbols inscribed on its surface, and the floor it rested on was a yinyang symbol, half white and half black.

_What the hell! Even the Room has its own agenda, this is useless!_

"What is this!" Harry cried, as he collapsed at the base of the pillar. "I just want to get away and not even you will help me do that!"

Neville looked at Ginny questioningly, not daring to speak; she shrugged back, apparently just as baffled.

"You're the Room of Requirement," Harry sobbed quietly, "and I just wanted to leave and you couldn't even give me that." Harry looked around the room, "all you could give me was a giant bowl with rainbow steps, a damn pillar covered in crap I don't even understand, and Neville and Ginny..."

Harry paused as his eyes swept over his friends, his eyes locking on Ginny. "Why are you here?" Harry said in a hoarse, grating, monotone, "Neither of you should be here, both of you have family, you shouldn't want to be here, you shouldn't want to be near me!"

"We don't want to go, Harry, we want to make sure you're going to be ok; we don't want to see you go either." Ginny replied.

"No..." Harry grated, "the only thing that will happen if I stay, is that more people will die. It's better that I leave so that you can live. If I don't, you'll just die pointlessly just like everyone else I..." Harry almost choked on the last word, but fell silent.

Ginny stepped forward and quietly said "Harry, no, we're your friends, people who don't care what happens, people who care about you, and don't want you to leave the-"

"No! I shouldn't be here!" As Harry said those words, his mind erupted in light and color, the flow nearly sweeping him away.

Neville's eyes widened slightly and he took a half a step back.

"No, Harry, please, we don't want you to-" Ginny started to say as she stepped forward again.

"Ginny, I think we should go, this looks-" Neville said at the same time.

"NO! I just want to GET AWAY!" Harry screamed as his mind exploded in light and a small symbol on the pillar, just at his back, depicting a pair of sinuous oriental dragons entwining a yinyang, began to glow.

And the world flickered, and blinked out of existence.

* * *

Ginny stared at Harry as he sobbed at the base of the stone pillar; she wept for him as she tried to will him to understand that he wasn't alone, that she was there to help no matter what the circumstances. She stepped forward hoping closeness would help press her point home,"Harry, no, we're your friends, people who don't care what happens, people who care about you, and don't want you to leave the-"

"No! I shouldn't be here!"

Ginny rocked back slightly at the quiet vehemence of his words and the almost frigid coldness in his eyes. But she would not be deterred. Even after all this time and even a boyfriend she still hadn't entirely given up on Harry Potter. She was determined to help him, at the very least as his friend, even if he never returned her feelings. She refused to let him subsume himself in grief.

She failed to notice Neville's slightly startled and frightened expression as she stepped closer to Harry.

"No," she said forcefully as she barely registered Neville's attempted warning, "Harry, please, we don't want you to-"

She was interrupted by a scream filled with pure emotion, "NO! I just want to GET AWAY!" Pain, fear, grief , and rage, battled with each other in Harry's eyes and they seemed to blaze and the world flickered, then blinked out of existence.

* * *

"No! I shouldn't be here!"

Neville shuddered as a feeling of raw power emanated from Harry as the last word echoed quietly into the room. Yes, he was worried for his friend, but he was frightened now. This feeling of power wasn't bad or evil, it was simply menacing in its size and uncompromising overbearance. Still he stepped back slightly.

He and Ginny should leave Harry to whatever he was doing and come back to check on him later. This _power_ had to go somewhere didn't it? Neville simply didn't want to be that somewhere; it was a fairly reasonable opinion he figured, seeing as he had already faced down eleven Death Eaters that same evening.

_Damn me for a Gryffindor_ he groused as he stood his ground. He, Neville Longbottom, the joke of his class, would stay put, regardless of what happened. He would see this through.

Nevertheless, he tried to warn Ginny that they might need to leave. He had pined for her after the Yule Ball, almost to the point of obsession, but a strong talk and a little bit of logic cured him of that little spat of insanity, he had other girls in his thoughts. However, that was no reason to let her, a friend, get hurt.

None of his Gryffindor bravery or training over the last year in the DA, however, could have prepared him for the ocean of power that poured from Harry as his last shout rang in the room.

And the world flickered, and blinked out of existence.

* * *

_Flicker_

Harry was in the Forbidden Forest as the green light of a killing curse streaked for him, calling for his soul. Voldemort was cackling as the Death Eaters looked on with glee...

The curse struck him, and as life rushed from him as if on a great wind, a voice boomed in his mind:

_**I HAVE WON AGAIN DRAGON  
**_

_Flicker_

Harry staggered through the warped hallways of a palace. The once obvious opulence of the place now in shambles. The dead were everywhere, staring at him from pools of blood with sightless, accusing eyes.

As he staggered past a beautiful blonde woman, her face frozen in a mask of horror, he shouted, "Ilyena! Ilyena my sweet, where are you!"

His eyes alighted on the deceased woman, and for a moment horror flitted through his mind and the voice boomed:

_**I HAVE WON AGAIN DRAGON**_

_Flicker_

He was a babe, staring up at a man with blood red eyes as life rushed from him and a beautiful red haired woman screamed as she held him.

_**I HAVE WON AGAIN DRAGON**_

_Flicker_

He was a Queens Guardsman in Caemlyn protecting a beautiful golden haired woman from the hordes of the shadow; lightning flashing in his eyes.

_Flicker_

A muggle boy.

_Flicker_

A simple farmer wasting away after losing his wife to an unexplained sickness.

_Flicker_

_Flicker_

_Flicker_

_Flicker_

_Flicker_

_Flicker_

* * *

Suddenly Harry and his two companions slammed into the dusty paving stones of a fog domed city, it's splendor only equaled by the sadness of its empty and incomplete buildings, fountains, and avenues. Just across the plaza was an immense, beautiful tree surrounded by all manner of strange contraptions and artifacts. Nearby was a set of crystal columns that a tall red haired man had seemingly just stepped into.

Harry stood slowly, and looked around in amazement at the strange artifacts and spectacular city. As his eyes came to rest on Neville and Ginny in similar states of shock, he shouted, "Why!? Why are you here!? I just wanted to go away and not hurt anyone else, let alone you two, and now I've taken both of you somewhere and you're stuck with me!"

"Harry-" Ginny said.

"No! I just wanted to get away from everything and you're not supposed to be here! I'm going to ask that chap over there what the bloody hell is going on, where the hell we are, and then see if we can't get the two of you back home and away from me before you get hurt because of me."

Both Ginny and Neville flinched at Harry's statement, but resolutely followed him anyway as he moved towards the crystal columns.

As the teenagers stepped into the forest of crystal, their minds began to flash with images and lives lived and loved all leading inexorably to the present moment.

* * *

At that moment four people in different ages and places began speaking in a deep, ethereal voice:

_"HE COMES, HE COMES!  
As in ages past, present, and future,  
Twice and Twice shall he be marked,  
Twice to live and twice to die.  
Once the Bolt to mark him equal,  
Twice the Bolt to cleanse his soul.  
Once the Dragon to awaken his power,  
Twice the Dragon to assure his place.  
HE COMES, HE COMES!"_

_"HE COMES, HE COMES!  
Lord of the Evening,  
Prince of Twilight,  
Tamyrlin,  
Dragon of an Age Past and Future,  
HE COMES, HE COMES!"_

_"Nations shall shatter at their steps,  
Armies shall bleed at their swords,  
People shall weep at their hands.  
Beware the Dragons and take solace in their light!"_

_"The lions sing and the hills take flight.  
The moon by day and the sun by night.  
Blind woman, deaf man, jackdaw fool.  
Let the Lords of Chaos rule."_

_"SHE COMES, SHE COMES!  
Lady of the Evening,  
Alone Among Many,  
Seventh of Seven,  
__SHE COMES, SHE COMES!"_

_"HE COMES, HE COMES!  
The Professor of an Age,  
The Son of the Gryffin,  
The Almost Child!  
HE COMES, HE COMES!"_

As one, Sybill Trelawney, Amyrlin Elaida do Avriny a'Roihan, Sorilea of the Chareen Aiel, and a nameless prisoner in the valley of Thakan'Dar fell silent.

**A/N**

For some reason chapter two refuses to show. You can do it manually in the address bar to access it.

Yes this is going to be a H/G fic. I tend to like the cannon pairings simply because I feel they work really well. Admittedly JK could have done a far better job of characterizing those relationships and make them less incestuously awkward, but whatever. If you don't like this you can bugger off.

One of the big things that has always bugged me about JK Rowlings writing is that she is abysmal at emotion. Sure she can have her characters express them, but they dont ever seem to really deal with them. IE Harry who never seems to have grief issues. I have/will try to address that here.

You can see I took some liberty in how the portal stone sent them to randland. There is no return stone. (fun for later)

Also as you can tell I ripped off one of the original prophecies from WoT(twice and twice) and almost entirely copied the Lord of Chaos prophecy. This is basically because the first one makes for a wonderful plot device and the second one \just sounds so damn cool. For what its worth most of these "prophecies" are really straightforward. Only one of them should take any figuring and even that isn't much.

I hope you guys enjoy. Read and review.


	2. Chapter One - Orphaned Dragons

**THE LORDS OF MORNING AND EVENING**

**Chapter One - Orphaned Dragons**

Disclaimer:

I own nothing, all works are copyright of JK Rowling and Robert Jordan for their respective works of fiction.

**A/N**

Ok guys so here's the first real chapter. When I do flashbacks everything will be in italics and thoughts will be in normal font, IE the reverse of the regular text. I hope you enjoy it! For these first few installments there will be a lot of detail as we establish where the story is headed. Then we will look at some time-skips. Also I have an excellent case of "hindsight is always 20/20" so I will edit and improve past chapters as I move along. If you'll notice I already did that with the prologue. Some of the dialogue was choppy and didn't really seem to flow properly within the scene. So, without further ado...

* * *

Albus Dumbledore's eyes widened as he felt an immense power build somewhere in the castle. Every nerve ending tingled with power he felt emanating from this source, and he itched to grab just a portion of this power... this... life force... _In the name of Merlin's saggy bollocks what is that!? _Albus leaped to his feet to dash from his office and investigate the beacon; however, as suddenly as it arrived, the power was gone, as if it had never been. Albus sagged slightly at the loss and resolved to investigate further in the morning.

Albus slowly retook his seat, his old bones creaking more now, from the days trying events and conversations, than they ever had before. _My poor boy, how I have failed you._ He thought sadly. _I wish I knew what would become of you. I wish it could be happy, but all of the signs point elsewhere. I just hope that I haven't broken you in my misguided attempts to keep you whole._ Tears trailed down his cheeks and were lost in the white forest of his beard as Albus contemplated the boy, no, the man, he considered a grandson. In an attempt to assuage his own fears over Harry's destiny, Albus opened the cabinet that contained his many instruments for keeping watch over Harry. What he found both surprised and terrified him.

Every object inside, but for two, was inactive. Of all the devices that ought to have been working, the instrument that monitored Harry's physical condition and health should have at the very least told Albus whether Harry was alive or dead, but was, however, malfunctioning and was now entirely inactive. And yet, The quill of the Temporal Placement Indicator, one of two working devices, which should have changed with the tick of the clock and the days of the calendar, was slowly and repeatedly tracing a circle on parchment, instead of giving a defined date and time.

The other working device, which was not actually attached to Harry at all, was working overtime for an object which usually sat idle. It was simply a dictation quill attached to a listening charm on Sybill Trelawney, and was likely among the most important of the instruments in the cabinet. Should she enter a trance state and begin speaking prophetically, this quill would record everything she said and keep it readable for his eyes only. Albus's eyes widened as he read a line the quill had scribbled just a moment before: _Twice to live and twice to die._ Albus he dashed for his fireplace and flooed to Sybill's office to hear the remainder of the prophecy in person. He emerged from the fireplace coughing and brushing away soot, and settled quietly in a chair to hear the ethereal voice of prophecy tell him of the doom and salvation of the world.

It wasn't until a day and a half later that he realized that Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, and Neville Longbottom were missing.

* * *

The Wheel of Time turns, and ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legends fade to myth and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose at the molten peak of Dragonmount. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings not endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was _a_ beginning.

The wind rose out of the super-heated thermals of the mouth of the mountain, before racing down the side of the great peak, carrying ash, sulfur, and snow, to the great city below. The wind howled over the broken city of Tar Valon and around the White Tower, standing whole, yet broken, before racing out over the plains to Kinslayers Dagger and the Spine of the World.

The wind descended from the rocky peaks and turned south carrying frigid air and portents of doom from another part of the world over the parched and cracked desert of the Waste. The wind then came upon a vast gathering of tents in a great valley above a fog shrouded city, roaring and howling among them as four women stood on a ridge overlooking the shrouded city, waiting for the emissaries of their doom and salvation.

* * *

Harry and his two companions... friends... shuffled along underneath the invisibility cloak as they followed the tall man and his companion. Harry wasn't running from the world anymore, he was actually relaxed for a wonder. Well, as relaxed as he could be after watching his godfather die, then be transported to some unknown location, seeing a man nearly die of a hanging, and then having to walk through an eerily empty city to inconspicuously follow your only guide. Nevertheless, if Harry's friends were disturbed or questioned his sudden mood change they didn't show it or say it. _Well I do have a history of a quick temper, _Harry noted with a slight chuckle, _and it's not like they haven't seen me change my mind in a jiff before._

He ignored the questioning glance Ginny directed at him, and continued his examination of the city around them. It was spectacular, yet depressingly empty and incomplete. The soaring towers were reminiscent of skyscrapers Harry had seen during his few trips to London, but had an elegant, almost _magical,_ quality about them that told him this was no ruin of any city he had ever seen or read about. Many of the towers were adorned with giant, spectacular, murals of men and women in flowing robes, holding what appeared to be balls of light. _Could they be Wizards and Witches? Was this an entire city of magicals? Was that why the Room sent us here, did it think that putting us with our own people would help us adjust? _Harry mused. Then an eerie thought struck him. _Did it send us back so I could go through those columns? So I would understand death? Or so I could understand the value of sacrifice? _Harry unconsciously rubbed the shimmering dragon tattoos that entwined his forearms at these thoughts.

His trip through the columns had been educational to say the least. Seeing fifteen hundred years of history through his ancestors eyes couldn't be anything but. He had watched through the development of wands, magical lore, and other wonders; however, he also had to watch them die. They died in battle, in sacrifice, or for causes. It didn't matter how old they were, they all died, but they all died _for something, _they all left someone behind, and it had started with Alcuin the courier.

* * *

_He was Alcuin, nothing more than a simple courier. His parents had given him the name of a priest as was traditional to his family, although for the life of him he didn't understand why, seeing as not a single member of his family was a priest, had ever been a priest, or even had any connection to the church. They never attended feasts, sermons, or holidays, so Alcuin was mystified as to how his family was 'holy' in any way. His father always said he would understand in time, he just never said exactly when._

_As he went about his duties dropping shipments and letters all over the village and the nearby farms, Alcuin tamped down the excitement he felt in the pit of his stomach. Today marked the start of his eighteenth cycle. Eighteen winters, summers, springs, and autumns. Today was the day he could make his intentions for Ælfwynn known._

_Yes, today was a great day._

_He was in the center of town, dropping an order off to the butcher. There was an earsplitting crack from the street across from the building he was exiting as the old, unkempt roof of the leatherworkers collapsed in on itself from the weight of the new snow atop it. Screams and yells began emanating from the ruin and Alcuin immediately ran into the destabilized building, looking for the victims. He struggled past sodden beams and heaps of snow as he clambered into the old shop._

_Alcuin stopped for a moment to orient himself as another scream tore through his heart. He knew the body behind that cry. _No, no, no, she wasn't supposed to be here today, her father told me she wouldn't be working today. _But he couldn't deny that he knew _exactly _who was screaming in the building. He began frantically searching and digging towards the source of the slowly fading heart wrenching cries, his emotions and self control fraying with each passing second. _I won't make it in time. She'll die, there's nothing I can do! NO! _Suddenly every fallen beam and wall, every snowflake, vanished in a puff of displaced air and dust as he staggered slightly as though drained._

_Alcuin ignored the strangeness of the moment and picked up Ælfwynn's bleeding body and ran from the ruined shop. Villagers stared as he sprinted through the muddied snow towards his home with the body of the young woman dripping blood in his arms. Some called to him offering assistance or questions. They were all ignored as Alcuin dashed into his home, nearly collapsing as his body began to shake in exhaustion. The world began to darken as he yelled for his mother to help._

* * *

_Alcuin woke slightly anxious to the dim candlelight of his bedroom. Water, he needed water. Why was a it so infuriatingly hot in here! His hand shook as he poured from the pitcher at his bedside, his arm barely able to take the weight; he wondered at what sickness had claimed him so switfly._

He hadn't been sick earlier had he? How long have I been asleep? _Alcuin wondered. As his mind drifted on the events of yesterday they eventually landed on the source of his anxiety. _Ælfwynn! _He wondered if she was alright, if his mother had worked one of her miracles on the young woman. He had to check, yet, after trying to throw off the coverlet he realized that with his shaky limbs he could barely crawl, let alone check on his lover, so he settled back to listen for news._

_Several hours later he heard voices approaching his room, it was his father and grandfather._

_"...decide whether or not to teach him, or let him accept the gifts naturally." Alcuin heard his father say in a low voice._

_"We mustn't," came the low rattle of his grandfather, "the people fear these gifts, many of us are dying, murdered in their sleep. Already the people turn to myths of our folk rather than learn from those in their midst."_

_"You mean the Aes Sídhe stories? Damn priests, turning our kind into folklore and devils, and our own people against us." His father murmured harshly._

_"We could accept Merlin's offers-"_

_"No! Hide ourselves! Reduce our arts to paltry flashing lights and incantations, and our lives to mere decades! No, I refuse to debase myself and my family!" Came his fathers whispered argument. "But we are getting distracted, we were deciding if we should teach Alcuin to access his gifts. I feel we should, father, I do not want to lose my son to the Ravage, or to an early death from old age, and I don't care to listen to the ramblings of fanatics or an aging madman who dandles thrones on his knee!"_

_"What of the girl?" Alcuin listened intently to his grandfather's insistent voice. "If she should pass on how will that affect his training? Surely he would be unable to manage it time in that state?"_

_Alcuin was frantic now as he tried to make sense of his father's and grandfather's words._

If she should pass on!? _Was Ælfwynn really in such a state? He couldn't let that happen, he couldn't let her go, he refused!_

_His thoughts were stopped in their tracks by his father's voice, "We cannot allow that to cloud his emotions."_

_"How do you propose to keep the impending death of your son's unborn child, and the death of the mother of said child from clouding his mind? I tend to think it is quite an event."_

WHAT? No, she would have told him, wouldn't she? _Alcuin thought frantically, but it was interrupted by another, more urgent thought: _They're going to try and keep it from me? WHY?

_"We simply don't tell him." Came his father's shocking reply. "She didn't die," he said "she has..._left..._she has been married off to a wealthy merchant. By the time Alcuin wakes in a few days he will be none the wiser."_

_His grandfather's weary sigh brought Alcuin out of his shock._

I won't let this happen! _Alcuin, in a sudden burst of energy, leapt from bed and raced into the hall. Barreling past his startled father and grandfather to his mother's healing room he was greeted with a sight that tore his mind to shreds._

_Ælfwynn lay wrapped in bandages, her legs splinted and her back braced with a wooden board. From the redness of the bandages wrapping her back and legs, her bleeding had not stopped. Her dark red hair fanned around her head like so much blood as she slept, and the sight of it, of her, broke his heart and mind._

_Alcuin staggered over to the bedside and looked around the room. He spied his mother sitting in the corner looking drained as she knitted a scarf. She looked up at his soft, anguished, cry, and tears filled her soft green eyes. She opened her mouth, once, then closed it before opening it again to speak._

_"I-I am so sorry my son." She choked through her tears, "My gifts were not enough to bring her back. All I can do is keep her from suffering."_

No, no, no, no. _The word reverberated through his mind. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. He was to ask for her hand . He was supposed to pay the bride price and carry her off to the future they had planned together._

NO! _Again the word sounded like a gong in his mind as he bent over her form and gently cradled her head, her soft skin was cold in his hands. Better that she - _that they_ - should live, even without him, than to die now, die uselessly._

_The room began to thrum with power and the young woman on the bed below him shivered slightly as raw power was pushed into her, with her and her babe's health the only goal. Alcuin's skin began to physically burn as he drew more power, he needed more! He couldn't let her go! Alcuin's last image was of her opening her eyes, those beautiful hazel eyes, as his mind and body were burned away in the crashing, molten, waves of power._

* * *

Harry snapped from his reverie to see the tall red haired man staring at him with cold grey eyes. _Wait, we're under the invisibility cloak! How can he?_ Harry looked at his two friends but it seemed only Ginny had any idea as she glanced fearfully from the man to the ground at their feet, and back to the man. Harry quickly glanced down and noticed they had blundered into a massive pile of dust. "Shit." he murmured, and suddenly the air seemed to tighten and constrict around Harry, Neville, and Ginny.

Ginny shrieked as the man sprinted at them, drawing a sword as he came and Harry began shouting at the man to stop. Suddenly the man stopped, blushing furiously, and backpedaled slightly. Harry had only a moment to question his behavior before the cloak was ripped from around him and his companions and a knife was pressed to his throat.

"Who are you wetlander? How do you come to be in Rhuidean?" A woman hissed from directly behind him. "Did the wise ones send you? Why would they send someone so young? Speak!"

Harry stuttered harshly, nervous and unsure which question to answer, "I-I-er-I-I'm Harry."

Her condescending voice cut him off. "You lie with your first breath! You are not hairy, I see no covering of hair beyond that on your head! Do not lie, or I will spill your blood here!"

Ginny giggled lightly, and to his amazement, the man in front of them also began to chuckle.

"Do not laugh girl! Rand al'Thor! Why do you laugh? Have you never seen a woman in her skin before? Has Elayne not...?"

Harry, Neville, and Rand all blushed furiously at the statement, and Ginny quickly stifled her increasing giggles, seeing as the woman behind them had a knife pressed to Harry's throat. Harry managed to croak "No, no that's my-"

He was cut off as the man - Rand - raised his hand for silence and then spoke in a deep, rich voice, "Aviendha, that is the boy's name, as strange as it is. That aside, could you, ah, put some clothes on?"

The woman behind Harry ignored the pleading behind Ran's request, and replied, "I have none. Women must come to Rhuidean clad in the Light, do you know nothing?"

"Apparently not," Rand said "but how about you get going. We will see you back at camp. There is no reason for you to further frighten the boys."

"I do not think I have frightened these children! But very well, I shall do ask you ask." she stated forcefully and rather reproachfully. "But what of this... garment?" Aviendha asked. "It is obviously of the power, and should not be left in the hands of children!"

"Hey! That was my fa-" Harry started but was stopped by a quelling look from Rand.

"Give it to me, Aviendha. I can more than deal with these children, and I have the... space to carry it."

"What of Matrim Cauthon?" Harry saw an arm jut over his shoulder and gesture to the man leaning heavily on a nearby fountain.

"These three can help me with him."

"If they have weapons and-"

"Check them then, Aviendha, satisfy your own curiosity, they are but teenagers, hardly a threat to one of my... gifts." Rand stated forcefully, fading with the last word.

"Very well" she huffed, and began patting down all three. She checked everywhere, pockets, shoes, sleeves. She even checked down the front and back of his trousers! As she worked, she pulled their wands, some galleons and sickles, their ministry badges from the previous evening, and a single phoenix feather from their pockets. When she finished, Aviendha stepped back and huffed, as if displeased to not have found anything, but stated "Very well, Rand al'Thor, I shall go. But if you should come to harm I will be very displeased, for the sake of my near-sister."

Rand waved his hand in an "after you" gesture and looked away as the woman jogged out from behind the three teenagers towards the plaza.

Neville and Harry immediately averted their eyes, blushing as red as Ginny's hair, and stayed that way until Ginny said that she had gone. The teenagers all sighed in relief at the departure of the violent and decidedly _naked_ woman, and looked at the man in front of them who had fixed them with a cold grey stare.

"Now. You will answer my questions, and if I find out you have lied to me there will be... consequences." All three teenagers flinched slightly at his tone and nodded in assent. "I take it your name is Harry," he said gesturing. "What is your birth name, what is this, and how did you come by it?" he said, holding up the invisibility cloak.

"My name is Harry James Potter," Harry replied, "and that," he said carefully, "is an invisibility cloak handed down to me from my father."

"Huh" Rand grunted before fixing Neville with that cold stare. "And you?"

"N-Neville Frank Longbottom" Neville stuttered out, gasping in relief as Rand's eyes moved to Ginny.

"And you, girl?" He gestured to Ginny who seemed to bristle at the address.

"Ginevra Molly Weasley, or Ginny, to you." Ginny said proudly.

Rand gave her an appraising glance before turning back to Harry. "Now, tell me, how in the light did you manage to get here, and how," he glanced down at Harry's forearms, then raised his own, allowing his shirtsleeves to fall down his arms, "did you get these?"

Harry gaped for a moment, then began to talk. He spoke of what happened in the Department of Mysteries, his talk with Dumbledore (omitting the prophecy), the events in the Room of Requirement and the stone (at which Rand's eyes seemed to glint in recognition), then his passage through the crystal columns. By the time he had finished, Rand had seated himself on the edge of a fountain to listen to his tale, and Harry's feet were aching from being forced to stand in one position. Apparently satisfied, Rand stood, and then released them from whatever binds were holding them and promptly introduced himself.

"Very well, I will take your story at face value, if only because it is too preposterous to be a lie. I-" he gestured to himself, "am Rand al'Thor, sheepherder, Dragon Reborn, The Lord of the Morning, The Prince of the Dawn, The King of Tear." He said the last four with a slight sigh of resignation and defeat. "And that," he said hooking his thumb over his shoulder at the man leaning against a fountain and cursing under his breath, "is my childhood friend, Matrim Cauthon, or Mat, to you." he said, winking at Ginny.

Harry paled slightly at the mention of Rand's title of "The Dragon Reborn" and coughed the title out as a question.

Rand sighed slightly "Yes, I am the Dragon Reborn. The reborn soul of Lews Therin Telamon, the Kinslayer, the Dragon."

Harry however, was shocked, "but the voice..." he whispered to himself.

"Voice!?" Rand said sharply.

Harry grimaced at the tone of Rand's voice, hesitated for a second, then recounted the flickering visions he saw as he passed through the portal stone. "I thought it was a dream and not worth mentioning. There was a voice at the end of every vision. It kept saying 'I have won again Dragon.' Like I said I thought it was a dream and I don't know if it was referring to me." he said at Rand's questioning glance.

Rand sat for a moment apparently lost in thought, before mumbling, "Two dragons?...different age maybe...but why was he seeing things I saw during my own trip? Portions of Telamon's life? Portions of my own? Maybe some of his own possibilities?" He shook his head as if to clear it, glanced back at Mat, then turned to the three friends. "Very well, I will take you back to camp with me. You can have your coins back," he said offering the pile of gold and silver in his hands, "and you," he gestured to Harry, "can have the feather."

Harry grabbed the feather, which seemed to warm in his hands, and carefully slipped it into his pocket. "What about our...sticks?" Harry asked.

"No." Rand stated flatly. "You three have been looking at them every ten seconds since we took them. I don't know what you can do with them, but I will-"

He was cut off by Ginny "The same thing you do." she said quickly.

"What?" Rand looked at her sharply.

Ginny looked back confidently, "You trapped us right?" At Rand's nod she continued, "well, with those we can do the same kinds of magic."

Rand's eyes narrowed, "Magic? Show me."

Ginny gestured at Harry, "Give him his. You can use me as a hostage so he doesn't try anything."

Harry and Neville looked over at Ginny, surprised at her levelheadedness and Harry opened his mouth to object to her plan, but was silenced with a glare, as Rand offered Harry the three wands. Harry grabbed his wand as Rand grabbed Ginny's shoulder and moved her in front himself.

Harry stood there with his wand held in his hand looking at Ginny and Rand, who nodded encouragingly and narrowed their eyes respectively. _Should I try to stun him?_ Harry thought. _Well he has been trustworthy so far, I don't want him to use that sword or whatever magic he was doing._ Any thoughts of stunning the man and making a run for it were dispelled, as Rand shifted almost imperceptibly into a stance that veritably oozed menace, and then drew his sword and laid it against Ginny's neck. Harry smiled slightly at the smirk on Rand's face that said "yes I know _exactly_ what you were thinking" then turned and pointed his wand at a nearby pile of masonry and levitated several chunks before summoning one.

Rand looked at Harry, then Neville, and back to Harry. "You can both do this?" At their nod he tapped Ginny on the shoulder, "Her as well?" They nodded again. "It's all spirit, and you barely seem to even seize the source." Rand said, and ignored their questioning glances. "Show me one more thing, then give me back the stick."

Harry nodded then searched his mind for a spell to demonstrate that would be suitably impressive, but decidedly non-threatening. He settled on a spell, glanced at Ginny, then said, in a loud, clear voice, _"EXPECTO PATRONUM"_ and watched in astonishment, as a long, silvery, sinuous shape erupted from the end of his wand.

All four stared open mouthed, as the silvery avatar of the creatures wound around Rand and Harry's forearms ducked and wove about them, before settling next to Rand and finally disappearing. It was a long minute before any of them spoke.

"Blood and bloody ashes" Rand cursed.

"Bloody hell" the other three mumbled.

Harry started as an idea struck him, then held out the wand to Rand. "You should try it." Harry said, and shook the wand insistently. "I think you will have the same result. Just think of a happy memory, point the wand...stick... and then repeat those words."

* * *

Rand looked dubiously at the stick -wand-, but replaced his sword and released Ginny before grabbing it. He held it out as Harry had instructed, and noted the warmth that seemed to seep from it into his hand. _This must be some sort of ter'angreal,_ he thought as he brought up a mental image of Elayne. Strangely, at that moment Aviendha's face...and body, flashed through his mind after the image of Elayne, as well as Min's face, and the face of a nameless blonde woman. Rand spoke the phrase the boy had said earlier, and was surprised as, of all things, the _ter'angreal_in his hand reached into him and seized _saidin_, set a weave of spirit in the tip of the wand, then released the source, all in the instant he finished the incantation. He was not, however, surprised when the same silvery dragon leapt from the wand and settled near the boy called Harry. He then pocketed the wand with the others and glanced at Harry, who it seemed, judging from his expression, had arrived at the same conclusion that Rand himself had reached after Harry's mention of the voice in the portal stone visions.

Harry chuckled softly, "You're me," he mumbled quietly, "and I'm you!" He chuckled a little harder and then stopped suddenly and in a deadpan voice, "The weirdest shit happens to me, I guess I might as well learn to bloody well deal with it." At the look on Ginny and Neville's faces, both Rand and Harry began laughing hard enough to bring tears to their eyes. They both ignored the questioning look from the auburn haired girl and laughed all the harder at Mat's muttered comments about bloody madmen, as they started for the wall of fog.

* * *

They had walked for hours, or so it seemed to Ginny as she reflected on the hellishly confusing day they had endured. Still, she knew she was in a daze; that it would take a while for their circumstances to sink in. The visions she had seen in the portal stone had shaken her to the core as she watched herself live and die in countless ways. Yet, at the same time, those visions/dreams, whatever they were, had given her a glimpse at the possibilities, and some of them - most of them - held the chance for a life beyond any of her possible dreams and that fact held her together. Even now, she wasn't quite sure that she wasn't dreaming, although the cold steel of the sword that had been pressed to her neck had seemed real enough.

She glanced at her surroundings, noting the beautiful architecture that was familiar only in its distinctly human quality, then shifted her gaze to the tall man walking next to Harry. Yes, they were definitely still on Earth, but where in the bloody hell had Harry taken her!? Or, for that matter, when? _Wait a minute,_she corrected herself, _first, what in the hell did Harry do?_ All she recalled before the visions in the portal stone, was trying to talk Harry down from doing something exceedingly stupid in his grief. Then Harry was yelling, not really at her, just yelling in general, and then, a flash of light, followed by the thousands of flickering visions. _Something happened just before the portal stone activated..._ she thought to herself as she sifted through her memories. It couldn't have been magic, she would have noticed, and the only person who was even around to notice anything was... _Neville!_ Ginny berated herself for her idiocy as she turned to Neville. He had been walking with Harry and Rand earlier, but had dropped back to walk with Mat and herself, claiming the two together just made his hair stand on end. "Hey Nev, question for you."

"Shoot." Neville said, looking back at the massive tree behind them.

Mat looked at them both questioningly at the phrase.

"Why did you tell me that we should 'go away' when Harry was yelling in the Room of Requirement?"

Neville looked at her curiously, "You mean you didn't feel that?"

"Feel what?" She asked, now entirely dumbfounded. This wasn't the conversation she had been expecting.

"You have to be kidding me," Neville said, slightly exasperated. "You mean to tell me you didn't feel the waves of power that were coming from Harry?"

Neither noticed Mat pale slightly and drift back a few paces.

"Er - no?"

"Oh, well there's your answer, I suppose."

"Any other reason?" She asked.

"Um," Neville said awkwardly, "should there be?"

"No, not really" she replied, "it's just I'm trying to figure out how we got here. I feel like there's something, or more than one thing, missing and I feel like if I could figure out what they are, it would kind of put the whole picture together."

Neville, happy that he wasn't being interrogated replied easily, "Well it was definitely accidental magic that much is easy to see."

"Sure," she said, "but what riled him up enough to have that powerful a burst of accidental magic?"

"Well, I dunno." Neville said thoughtfully. "His godfather died during the fight in the Department, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well I think that could be part of the reason, I don't think it's all of it." Neville stated.

_Where the hell is he going with this?_She wondered. "So, you think it could be something more than losing his last actual family member that sent him over the edge?"

"Well I don't think he's mad," Mat paled slightly behind them, and Neville chuckled, "but didn't he say something to you that sounded a little strange?" He prodded her mental gears into drive.

"Now that you mention it..." she trailed off, thinking. _What did he say? 'I want to get away?' No, no it was before that..._ then she remembered: '_No...'Harry grated, 'the only thing that will happen if I stay, is that more people will die. It's better that I leave so that you can live. If I don't, you'll just die pointlessly just like everyone else I...' Harry almost choked on the last word, but fell silent. "_Oh Merlin!" she whispered. _He thinks, or thought,_she considered his change in attitude after the crystal columns, _that he will end up killing everyone he lo- _her thoughts halted at that last word, and she looked up at Harry, who was waiting at the edge of the fog, and blushed lightly as they all grouped up at the edge.

Rand started through the fog, followed by Harry, and then Ginny and Neville, followed by Mat. Ginny shivered slightly in the cold moisture as the city faded behind, and followed Harry's dark mop through the empty whiteness, then suddenly, they emerged into the beautiful, nearly blood red, dawn light in at the bottom of a rocky desert valley. At the top were four women looking down on them with skirts whipping in a wind. Behind them were thousands of men and women in brown, grey, and red clothing, all were carrying spears. A dry, monotonous voice echoed down from above, seemingly carried on the wind that assaulted the ridge.

* * *

Rand chuckled darkly at the sight that greeted him as he stepped from the fog surrounding Rhuidean. Thousands of Aiel gathered on the slopes of Chaendaer, waiting for 'He Who Comes With the Dawn,' the one who would destroy them, break them. _'He shall spill out the blood of those who call themselves Aiel as water on sand, and he shall break them as dried twigs, yet the remnant of a remnant he shall save, and they shall live.'_It was only made more poignant with the fact that they had emerged from Rhuidean at dawn. He didn't want to be the one to destroy them, but apparently the idea of not interpreting prophecy literally was in tatters. What else could he do? _There's not much I can do, except maybe try and keep that remnant as large as possible._ Rand was brought out of his thoughts by a dry and monotonous, yet powerful voice carried down on the wind.

"Bloody fucking hell" he heard Harry mutter behind him as the voice finished.

* * *

Amy stood atop the ridge overlooking the fog shrouded city of Rhuidean. All four of them had dreamt of this moment, that they should be here, in this exact spot, to watch the lace of the ages unfold before their eyes. _Yes something is going to happen_. _The question is what?_ Both her fear and her hope would that it would be the fulfillment of prophecy. _If that prophecy goes unfulfilled, we may not be broken and scattered like sand in the wind, but we may not survive at all._ She was brought back out of her dark thoughts as a tall Aielman stepped from the cloud dome of the city just as the crimson dawn light reached his location. _Thank the light, we may yet find shade for the future._ She started slightly as a black haired young man she didn't recognize stepped from the fog behind Rand. "Who-? she started to say but was cut off as Sorilea began to speak in a voice that was not her own for the second time in three days, a voice which carried on the swirling sulfur wind:

_"THEY COME! THEY COME!__  
__Red of hair, __Black of hair,__  
__Twice marked the Dragon!__  
__Grey eyes, __Green eyes,__  
__They come with blooded skies!__  
__Taiar Raide, Taiar Arisade.__  
__Behold the Princes!__  
__Behold the Orphaned Dragons!_

* * *

In a small little cabinet, in a small little office, in a not so small little school, on a small little island, in a small little Age, a small little quill wrote out a small little prophecy that determined the fate of the world.

* * *

**A/N**

Haha! I liked that chapter, lot of fun to write the exposé bits, although I think some of it went a little fast, but I had a hard time figuring out a better way to set it up. Ok, a couple things on the Alcuin section. Those two names were picked for a reason. They are old saxon names that actually have a specific meaning that I picked because of their relation to the idea of Aes Sedai and to magic. Ill let you guys go figure that out. Now, in regards to the prophecy at the end we have precedent in WoT canon for a foretelling to happen when a specific event occurs and the foretelling gives notice of that event. For instance, Gitara Moroso dying as she gives the foretelling/notice of Rand's birth on Dragonmount. Also the old tongue I used in the foretelling is genuine WoT stuff(I think). I found a dictionary/language index that RJ had helped to compile, that had some short phrases in it, as well as loads of common words. _Taiar Raide, Taiar Arisade._They mean Lord of Morning and Lord of Twilight, respectively. That's it! I hope you all enjoyed it.


	3. Chapter Two - Discussions and Prophecy

**THE LORDS OF THE MORNING AND EVENING**

**Chapter Two - Discussions and Prophecy**

Disclaimer:

I own nothing, all works are copyright of JK Rowling and Robert Jordan for their respective works of fiction.

**A/N**

So these chapters are going to come pretty close together for the next few days. I just finished my undergrad and am currently on a rather extensive job hunt, so I have a lot of time to waste, and I might as well write.

* * *

"_Bloody fucking hell." Harry muttered._

* * *

Prophecy. It was always prophecy. Did it seriously have to follow him everywhere he went? _Apparently it does._ Harry thought bitterly, _at least this one doesn't tell me I have to die. _He chuckled dryly at the thought as the group started up the rocky, barren slope.

* * *

Rand looked at Harry next to him. _A child of prophecy. Birds of a feather, it seems. _Rand had noted the almost resigned expression on the boys face as the words drifted to them on the wind. It looked as if Harry had prior experience with such things. _It is to be expected, if our suspicions are correct._ Rand's mind, however, had to his chagrin, immediately begun thinking of ways to use the boy. It would be good to have someone in the same circumstances. Someone who could, through none of his own machinations, be implicitly trusted.

Rand pushed these thoughts aside as they scrabbled up the rocky slope. He could make out faces now. Amys, Bair, Melaine, Sorilea. They were all waiting at the ridge. But they were, as was to be expected, staring at Harry. Behind them Rand could see the resident clan chiefs, as well as several Aielman with deadly expressions on their tanned features. One of the men was gesticulating wildly at Rand and Harry. They were arguing, it seemed. Rand ignored the sight as they climbed.

The sun beat on their backs, evaporating sweat from their shirts almost before it could moisten the fabric. Rand could hear Harry panting on his right, and the labored breaths of the three behind them as they crested the ridge, coming face to face with the wise ones.

"Where is he? What have you done to him?"

The shout stopped Rand in his tracks, and a dozen heads swiveled in its direction. "Who... Who are you talking about?" Rand called back in a cracky, parched voice. _Coualdin_, Rand realized. He had been the one arguing with the chief's and wise ones. Now he stood off to the side on a thumb of granite that jutted from the mountainside, the Shaido delegation arrayed around it. All were looking at Rand and the rest who had returned from Rhuidean, and some, Rand realized, were veiled.

"Muradin, wetlander! He entered two day's before you, and you return first, with these... people! He could not have failed! We knew you could not be trusted! You must have brought these people with you and murdered him!"

Rand heard several of the Wise Ones shout, but before he could take a breath to reply, Coualdin struck, casting a spear straight at him. Three more came behind it, heading for Harry and the three behind him. Without thought, Rand snatched _saidin_, a sword of flame appearing in his hands, falling into -quite coincidentally- _Whirlwind on the Mountain_ , slicing, and flicking away a spear, as he batted two others away with heavy flows of Air. He heard the ding of metal, and a thud of a spear burrowing itself in earth, as Mat deflected a spear with his own.

"They entered Rhuidean with weapons!" Coualdin bellowed. "They have murdered my brother!" As he spoke, he hurled another spear, now one of many as the Shaido veiled themselves.

Rand and Harry jumped aside, and he could hear the cries as Mat jumped back, dragging the other two with him. As he rolled to his feet he noticed the spears had formed, perfectly, the ancient sign of the Aes Sedai around where Harry and himself had been standing. This strange occurrence stunned those present for a moment, even Coualdin.

"Stop you fools!" Came Bair's furious shout. She strode towards Rand, but looked towards the Shaido. "The peace of Rhuidean, Coualdin! Do you have no honor!?" Her voice was a hot iron rod. "Twice you have attempted to break it! Once more, and you will be outlawed! You, and anyone else who lifts a hand." She stopped, merely a pace from Rand, facing the Shaido, and raised hands carrying waterskins as if she meant to use them as weapons. "Any who doubt my word, raise a weapon! They will be deprived shade by the Agreement of Rhuidean! They will be not be given hold nor stand nor tent! They will be hunted by their own sept as if an animal!"

Most hastily unveiled their faces - not all - and Coualdin was not to be diverted. "They are armed! They went armed to the city! It is forbid-!"

"Be silent! You dare? You, who would break the peace of Rhuidean, you dare to speak of weapons? You who would kill the young-" she gestured to Harry, "and with your face unveiled? They took no weapon; I will attest to it!" Her gaze swept across Rand and the others. He hastily released the source, the sword vanishing, and he noticed her grimace at Mat.

"I was given it in Rhuidean, old woman." He heard mat growl from behind him. "I paid my price for it, and I mean to keep it!"

She sniffed slightly, before gesturing to the three teenagers. "You three. We must speak, but first-" she looked at Rand, "show them the signs before they rile up again! Be quick about it, before the fool takes his whole clan with him!"

He looked at her for a moment, baffled. Signs, what signs? Then realization came when she glanced at his forearms, then shook her head at Harry's questioning glance. He raised both his arms. His shirtsleeves falling away, revealing the sinuous creatures wrapped around his forearms. Shining red and gold, the things looked, not like tattoos, but creatures in and of themselves. As if they had settled directly into his skin. He knew without trying, that he would feel every scale, every claw, were he to run his fingers over them. Rand chuckled slightly, _twice and twice shall he be marked. _One for "remembrance lost" which he had certainly been given in Rhuidean's crystal columns, the other for "the price he must pay." What was the price, and how soon would he have to pay it? Who else would suffer to pay this price? There were always others, always.

He could hear Bair's breath catch as she looked at his arms. He noticed Amys, Mealine, and Sorilea gazing at him with a mixture of fear and relief. _Understandable, given the prophecy._

"Behold!" Bair proclaimed. "A _Car'a'carn_ has been chosen. A cheif of chiefs! Born of a maiden, raised by the old, he has come from Rhuidean at dawn, according to prophecy, to unite the Aiel!"

The Shaido immediately dispersed. Shortly thereafter Heirn of the Jindo sept, did the same. Others followed shortly. Soon, only Rhuarc, his eyes troubled, and Lan, his cold glare unwelcoming, remained. _  
_

"Burn me." He heard Mat mutter behind him.

He saw Egwene run to the ridge, another Wise One with her. Why were you gone so long, what happened? Who are they?" She asked as she arrived near them.

He ignored her for a moment and asked after Moiraine. She would be needed to figure out the three teenagers behind him.

"She is still in Rhuidean, along with Aviendha, I would guess. She might come out soon enough though, now that you have returned."

"She went to Rhuidean?" He asked incredulously. "We saw Aviendha, but-" Then he remembered something she had said. "What do you mean so long?

"You've been gone for a week, Rand. And again, who are they?" She asked, slightly impatient.

Rand dropped the waterskin in shock, and Seana, the Wise One who had arrived with Egwene, snatched it, looking at him reproachfully for his waste. "A week?" He croaked, as the three teenagers muttered behind him and Mat let out a low whistle.

"Yes, you wool-brained idiot! Now who," Egwene pointed at the teenagers, "are they?"

Rand shook his head slightly. _A week?_ All his plans, anything could have happened in seven days! The Forsaken could have cottoned on to his plans. He would have to move, and fast! "We found them in the city. They said they came through a portal stone." He decided not to mention the Dragons, or their rather unique channeling yet.

"Respectfully, Aes Sedai, it is none of your concern." Melaine stated. "We will deal with this as an Aiel matter."

"None of my concern? Four young people appear in the middle of a fog shrouded city, apparently through an object of the One Power and it is not my concern?" She snapped, and Mat looked at her as if impressed with her act. "I ask to be included in the discussions surrounding these three, and any information we have on them. I would also request that you wait to question them until Moiraine Sedai returns from the city."

Melaine opened her mouth to object, but Amys spoke. "Very well Aes Sedai, we will wait, and include you. But remember, should you become our apprentice as planned, you must abide by our rulings." Egwene nodded stiffly.

"Come," Amys said, looking at the group, and motioning to the flat higher up the valley that formed the Wise One's camp, "we will provide you water and shade while we wait."

* * *

Neville sat on the soft rugs and cushions, in essentially the same position he had held for hours after entering the tent. He was listening to the conversation around him, though he gave no outward sign of it. It was all politics, and he had learned politics at his grandmother's knee. He'd had to, he was the scion of the Longbottom family and had to learn to protect their interests. Most of what he was listening to at the moment was rather useless. It was whispered conversation about feuds, prophecy, and something called the _Car'a'carn_.

What Neville did notice, were the women in the room. One was young and pretty, maybe a year or two older than himself. She seemed to have some authority, and held herself a certain way, but she generally ignored the others in the tent while she made an avid study of the four teenagers. _Not particularly important then, I'd have to wager. _The other women though, they were subtle, they repeatedly, though very covertly, glanced at the three teenagers and Rand at any mention of prophecy in their conversation. Rand and Harry in particular.

He knew Rand had fulfilled some sort of prophecy by coming out of that city with those double Dragons on his arms; but what had Harry done? Harry had come out of that city with those two Dragons on his arms, sure, but he had essentially been disregarded by these... Wise Ones... Did it have something to do with that voice they had heard? That last line tickled something in his mind. _Behold the orphaned Dragons!_ But what did that mean? _Well I guess I should try and play this game and find out._

He shifted to the side slightly, turning to face Rand, and prepared the slightly innocent, scared look he would need to get his information.

"Where'd you grow up mate?" Neville asked quietly.

Rand looked at him, slightly startled. "I grew up on a farm, herding sheep mostly. My fa... Tam... taught me most everything he knew."

"Tam?"

"Yes, he...found me as a babe. Raised me like a son." Rand whispered. Then, in a slightly louder voice. "What about yourself, Neville?"

"I was raised by my Gran, scary old bat, she is; she has a good heart though." Neville said proudly, but he didn't fail to notice that most in the tent were listening avidly, although not obviously, to the conversation.

"Your parents?" Rand asked quietly.

Neville allowed a fearful, slightly pained expression to creep onto his face as he considered the question. He could tell these people about his parents. He was more curious to learn of their reactions to Harry's situation. Was that really his story to tell? Harry was his friend, and he didn't want to hurt him, but maybe...

"They were taken from me by war." He said quietly. "They're not dead, not like Harr-" He stopped purposefully, blushed slightly, and looked at Harry, who nodded his head in permission, ignoring the 'mistake.' "Ahem" He cleared his throat. "Not like Harry's parents, mine - mine have just lost their minds."

"Tell us, boy, how?" One of the women asked. Sorilea, he thought her name was.

"Mine or Harry's?" He asked, looking at Harry for confirmation. Harry shrugged as if to say 'might as well.'

She glanced at Harry. "Both, if you would tell."

"Harry's parents sacrificed their lives to protect him. My parents were tortured to insanity for information by the same people that killed Harry's parents." Neville lied, slightly, to simplify the explanation. He heard the younger woman, Egwene, gasp slightly at the explanation. _Yes definitely not as composed as the others._

Rhuarc spoke in a quiet rumble and bowed his head slightly in their direction. "Both of your parents heave earned much _Ji_ from their actions." He sat up slightly from his position next to Amys. "It would do their memory honor if you would grace us with the tale, when you feel you should."

Neville nodded, but fell silent, and began to let the conversation start again and then wash over him as his mind dwelled on what he had learned. They were _very _interested in Harry, almost as much as they were interested in Rand; regardless of their earlier indifference. It likely had to do with those tattoos, but those simply seemed to be indicators for something else. _Rand has a prophecy behind them. Does Harry? How can we get these people to tell us? For that matter, we just appeared... wherever we are, how could there already be prophecies? And where in Merlin's saggy bollocks are we?_ Neville decided to take a gamble with these people and try to get information. When the conversation lulled some minutes later, he spoke up quickly, as if to hide nervousness and to actually hide deception, "What are your versions of the prophecies surrounding Harry?" The question was simple. It made him sound as though he knew more than he did. More importantly, it did so without giving away any of this supposed 'knowledge.'

The tent immediately fell deathly silent. Every eye snapped to him, Harry's mouth falling open in a comical 'O'. Neville noted their reactions. Harry seemed surprised, shocked, and strangest of all, slightly hurt. _Harry knows something then, but I don't see how he could. Maybe it's unrelated. _Ginny was entirely surprised, a fact which didn't surprise Neville at all. Egwene also seemed completely taken aback. _She has no clue what I'm referring to. _He judged based on her raised eyebrows and questioning looks at Rand and considering looks at Harry. The Aiel women on the whole looked to be surprised, though they were flashing glances, indicating they knew something. _Although, it looks like the young one, Melaine has a good idea of what I'm talking about. Guess that means the other ladies are just good at keeping quiet._ Rhuarc had raised a querying eyebrow at Amys. _So he doesn't know anything. _

"That, Master Longbottom, is a question I too would like to have the answer to."

* * *

Harry's head snapped around at the musical voice, and he reached instinctively for his wand; belatedly remembering it wasn't there.

"And you, Master Potter, have no need to defend yourself against me." A small, pale, dark haired woman entered the tent. She seated herself calmly across from Rand, then looked straight back at Harry. "I know where you come from, Harry Potter. I have seen your life; I know your pain. What I don't know," she said, turning her penetrating stare to the Wise Ones, "are the foretellings that have been heard recently. If you would please oblige, Wise Ones."

Harry, sat for moment, stunned to silence. _Who is this woman? How does she bloody well know out names?_ Though, if she was telling the truth, it would be nice to have someone besides Ginny and Neville that fully understood their situation.

"There were six foretellings in the last week concerning these four, Aes Sedai." Amys nodded her head respectfully to the small woman.

"Wait a tick-" Harry blurted, "er, sorry to interrupt, but who are you, exactly?" He continued mildly, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

The woman smiled slightly at Harry. "It is quite aright. My name is Moiraine Damodred, Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah. You three may call me Moiraine, or Moiraine Sedai, if you prefer. Now, those prophecies if you would please, Wise Ones."

"Very well. As I said, Aes Sedai, there were seven foretellings, two of which concern the boy and the girl here." Amys gestured to Neville and Ginny. "We have seen that it is not for them to know the contents, before their time to do so."

Harry looked questioningly at the others in the tent. He really couldn't let something like that happen again. Dumbledore had kept the prophecy's contents secret from him, and look where it had led. No, he couldn't allow that to happen again. He was about to open hi mouth to object to the Wise One's statement when he noticed Moiraine subtly shake her head. _Huh, maybe she does know._

"Those two are merely identifiers, they tell us who those two are, who they will be. The other five describe this man here." Amys raised her hand slightly and gestured to Harry. "How to identify him, who he is and will be, and how he relates to Rand al'Thor." She proceeded to reach back and pick up a roll of parchment, and began to read.

Harry sat, stunned again to silence. He tried to rap his mind around the fact that by trying to get away from his world, from what had been his destiny; he had managed to forge a completely new one. He chuckled silently. _It's funny really. I'm Fate's bitch. Her little plaything to toss and chew until she spits me out torn, bloody, and at the end of my rope._

Rand, sitting next to him, was also laughing quietly, whispering to himself. "Well, it looks like I have someone who finally understands. Might as well make the most of it."

Harry listened to Rand's whisper and laughed in response. "I told you, the weirdest shit happens to me. I might as well learn to bloody well deal with it."

A slightly raised eyebrow from Moiraine and a chuckle from Neville and Rand were his only responses. At the end of the slightly awkward pause that followed, the three teenagers were guided to their tents. The white robed servants didn't say a word, just ushered them in, leaving water skins and fresh clothing.

* * *

"What are your thoughts on them, Wise Ones?" Moiraine asked, ignoring Egwene, once the teenagers had trooped from the tent.

"We thought to ask you that question, Moiraine Sedai." Rhuarc replied with a respectful nod of his head. "We have spent more time in their company. Our impressions are more complete, and also more colored."

Moiraine nodded graciously. "During my trip through the rings in Rhuidean, I saw many things." Amys and Sorilea shook their heads slightly. "Most of which you should not concern yourself with, Rhuarc. I did however have a rather unique experience, which I expect started when they arrived here." _This should put them nicely off balance._ "I bore witness to the entirety of young Harry Potters life, as if I were a spirit following in his wake." Eyebrows lifted around the room, signifying the extraordinary surprise, for Aiel that is. "I watched him from birth until the event that sent him here. So I ask you again, Wise Ones, Rhuarc, Rand, Egwene; what are your opinions on them?"

"The girl is rather powerful." Amys stated plainly. "She does not have as much potential as you, Egwene Sedai; though she may be the equal of Aviendha." "Should we apprentice her, I wonder? We know her destiny with the young man, she could be a way of guiding him."

At Moiraine's questioning glance, she was handed a roll of parchment that had the foretellings written on it. Her eyebrows rose at the last two. _Interesting, though it seems rather inconsequential to me. _ "She will be useful, yes. Though I would ask that she go with Egwene Sedai when she returns to the Tower." The Aiel women stiffened slightly. "She is not of your people. I know these children, she will find it easiest to adjust in our lands."

"We will discuss this further, Moiraine Sedai. Though I believe we should ask the girl her opinions at some juncture." Bair huffed. Moiraine nodded her assent before the Aiel continued.

"The boy, Potter, he does not wear his emotions on his sleeve as you do, Rand al'Thor, though I can see a temper as quick as a grass fire." Sorilea chuckled at that. "He has strong opinions, I think, and will fight like a lion to keep hold of it." Moiraine smirked slightly at the comparison.

"He has very obviously seen prophecy before. His reactions to these foretellings were calm, yet resigned. I wonder what it was, and if it shall affect us." Bair looked at Moiraine with a raised eyebrow.

"No." Moiraine replied firmly. "The prophecy that is held over him will not affect us, though I wonder if it has been broken by his coming here."

The Aiel all nodded though Rand looked rather dubious at her pronouncement. _He has enough experience with fate not to take any of her pronouncements lightly anymore._ She thought ruefully.

"Longbottom is not quite like the other two. He is very observant. He sees much, and when he speaks he is not looking for answers to the questions he asks." Rhuarc smirked slightly as all the women, save Moiraine scoffed at his statement.

_The boy is very skilled at Daes'Daemar. I wonder where he learned it._

"That is foolish, Rhuarc, the boy was as nervous as a mouse in a snakepit." Melaine scoffed.

He grimaced slightly, then continued. "You did not notice how he directed the conversation concerning prophecy? The stories he told of his parents were only told to garner sympathy, and cover for his questioning of al"Thor."

"How is it you see this, Rhuarc?" Sorilea barked.

"What is the last line of the final foretelling?" He asked, calmly. "It is all he would have heard exiting Rhuidean. I believe that should clarify my statements. As I said, he is very observant. He watched your reactions, mild as a mouse, then struck like a snake when his time was right. You would have told him some of the foretellings I believe, had Moiraine Sedai not stepped in." He smiled slightly. Almost smugly, for an Aiel. Melaine sniffed at him, though Sorilea adopted a pensive expression.

"They can wield the One Power." Rand said quietly, almost in a whisper. "They have a strange method for directing it, but I believe they could be trained in our method." Everyone in the room but Moiraine tensed at the pronouncement.

"The boys?" Egwene asked, and at Rand's nod she continued. "Who would train young boys for such a thing, knowing what happens, how could you suggest such a thing Rand?" She asked the group angrily.

Moiraine responded quickly, shutting out any other arguments. "I can guess that _Saidin_ was not tainted where, or when, they come from. It would be best to train them, Rand, and I do not know the effect the taint would have on their way of using the source. We can do no less, knowing the part they will play. To do otherwise is folly." She looked at the other women in the tent. "We should also train the boys in sword and spear. I will ask Lan to see to it, and I would hope you can find suitable tutors, Rhuarc." Rand and Rhuarc both nodded, and the Aiel grimaced at the idea of the sword. Moiraine turned to Rand. "You should know, Rand, that I believe the Potter boy to be one of the reincarnations of the Dragon. The foretellings only help confirm that fact." Only Egwene reacted to that pronouncement.

Rand cleared his throat quietly then replied. "We both have reached a similar conclusion, Moiraine. Though in a different manner. We will have to demonstrate for you, I think you may enjoy it." Rand smirked slightly.

"This is good that you both understand this, he will, I think, in the coming struggle, become your right hand, regardless of his age. I know from who he is, that he will be the most dedicated of allies, if you earn his trust. I suggest, however, you do your best to keep it once he gives it; from what I have seen, his anger is...frightening...when his trust is violated. You are like twins, two of the same, yet different in a way. Remember that, and use it." Rand grimaced slightly at her last turn of phrase, but nodded.

"Now, however, I think it is time I returned to my bed." Moiraine stood abruptly, sweeping hands down her skirts to smooth them. As she gracefully swept out of the tent she called back in an almost cheerful tone. "I shall see you all in the morning."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore had been frantic for hours after it was discovered that Harry Potter was missing. Thankfully, Harry's disappearance had been kept secret, and currently, only Order members and their children knew. He didn't want to think of what would happen if Voldemort got a hold of the information. The fact that Ginevra Weasley and Neville Longbottom were also missing was really a minor fact (aside from the firestorm that the Weasley family and Lady Longbottom were raising); although, it could give clues to a mystery that, at the moment had very few.

The only leads that could possibly be investigated were the prophecies given by Trelawney and the immense power spike that had occurred in the castle. The prophecies were, useless in regards to finding the three teens. What the prophecies said was quite interesting, and indicated that Harry and his companions would be doing _something_, but otherwise, they were frankly useless. The power spike, on the other hand, and Harry's emotional state just prior, said quite a lot about what had happened. _It had to have been accidental magic. _Albus mused. _But what power! Is this the power that the prophecy spoke of?_ The blast was so powerful that every wizard in Britain, and many across the channel, had been able to look up and point right in its direction. There had been articles in the morning prophet yesterday, immediately after the event. Most of the article had been interviews with people who had seen the event and included some speculation. The most interesting aspect of the entire phenomenon was that only men had been able to feel the power spike. Something almost unheard of in magic.

_Where did you go Harry?_ _Wherever you are, I do hope you are happy. Sadly that is something I couldn't give you. I tried, believe me, but sometimes old men make mistakes; I just make big ones. Come back to us Harry, but please, be happy. _Albus sent a silent plea to wherever the young man was, hoping he received it.

_Now I suppose I must listen to what the Weasley family has to say. _Albus thought with resignation. _Or maybe just Molly_. He shuddered at that final thought as he opened his office doors to find the redheaded clan waiting. What he didn't expect was the state that the Weasley matron was in after nearly two days out of contact with her only daughter.

Molly grabbed the front of his robes when he entered the office. "Headmaster! Albus-" she choked slightly over her words as tears threatened from her already red rimmed eyes. Albus looked over her head at Arthur and shook his head slightly, then looked back to Molly.

"Molly, we are following every lead we have. I'm sorry, but at the moment we don't know-" He was cut off by a choking sob from the woman in front of him. Arthur stepped forward and gathered Molly into his arms and slowly pulled her back from the Headmaster. Her arms fell limply from his robes as the distraught woman continued to sob. "Again, I'm sorry Molly, Arthur, but at the moment we don't know where young Ginevra is. We do know that she is, almost without a doubt, with Harry and Mister Longbottom. I can also tell you that, wherever he is, Harry is alive."

After a short silence, Bill Weasley cleared his throat and spoke up. "Headmaster, if you don't mind my asking." There was a short pause. "How do you know she's with Harry and that he's alive?"

_Should I tell them? Will it make any difference?_ Albus asked himself. He realized then that to not at the very least tell them of the prophecies would only cause them more grief. _I suppose I really should learn my lesson this time._ He thought bitterly. "Keep in mind a few things first please. And refrain from blaming Mr. Potter for this. If anyone, the fault lies with me." At their questioning glances Albus added a quick addendum. "Not to say directly, but Mr. Potter was in a rather... emotional state... when he left my office after the incident at the ministry. Poppy has told me that at the time Mr. Potter left my office, Miss Weasley and Mr. Longbottom had left the infirmary to find him. It is my guess that they encountered him somewhere on the seventh floor." An idea came to him. A secret room that Harry had been using all year. The one he called the Room of Requirement. _Could it be?_ He shoved the thought aside and continued speaking. "Several moments later, the large power spike we all witnessed flared and then vanished. At that same moment, most of my instruments for monitoring Mr. Potter's wellbeing stopped working."

The rest of the family remained silent, except for Bill, again. "If they stopped working wouldn't that mean..." He drifted off, as if he didn't want to consider the idea.

"No." Albus stated firmly. "When I say these devices are not working, I mean they are either entirely silent or _malfunctioning._ For instance, one of them," he gestured to the open cabinet, "should have explicitly told me if Mr. Potter is dead, where he died, and when. It has been completely silent on the subject. And that device," he pointed to the temporal placement indicator, which was still continuing to slowly trace a circle, "should tell me _when_ Mr. Potter is with an exact date and time. As you can see, it is rather cryptic." Albus sighed slightly as he came to his last piece of information. "The moment the power spike disappeared, that quill there," Albus pointed to the listening quill, "began writing six prophecies, one of which I am absolutely positive concerns Mr. Potter. Two others I believe may concern Miss Weasley and Mr. Longbottom." At the questioning glances of the Weasley clan he added. "And no, I will not reveal them to you. Just know that none of these prophecies involve harm coming to either Miss Weasley or Mr. Potter." Albus sighed again. He did indeed feel old today. He had felt more his age these two days than ever. "The last thing I can guess, is that Mr. Potter had a bout of accidental magic, and that is what sent them wherever they are."

Charlie spoke up. "Headmaster you mean to tell us that whatever Harry did with his magic, it caused that power spike?" Albus nodded slowly, and Bill, Charlie, and the twins all let out a low whistle.

"My hope is that wherever and _whenever_" he gestured to the slowly drawn circle again, "Mr. Potter is, he might at some point figure out what he did, and reverse it."

* * *

**A/N**

I had some trouble with Moiraine's scene here and I still don't entirely like it. But otherwise, enjoy. Please review!


	4. Chapter Three - Of Power and Darkness

**THE LORDS OF THE MORNING AND EVENING**

**Chapter Three - Of Power and Darkness**

Disclaimer:

I own nothing, all works are copyright of JK Rowling and Robert Jordan for their respective works of fiction.

**A/N  
**

Trying to lighten the atmosphere a little bit and going for a bit of humor. I haven't tried writing humor before, and my own sense of it is entirely sarcastic. If I get it right, let me know. Also certain portions of the dialogue and character actions are directly taken from _The Shadow Rising _and _The Fires of Heaven_.

* * *

Ginny Weasley was absolutely, completely, worn out. She couldn't very well show it, of course; she walked straight-backed and proud, not giving an inch.

_Two weeks of this! Sure I wanted to learn, but who bloody well thought learning to control the 'One Power' would be counting blasted grains of rice or running around the camp or even taking a bloody switch to my arse! GAH! And there they sit, smug, poncy, and _comfortable_ as they can be on their bloody horses, in their bloody nice clothes, with their bloody swords, and THEY ARE LAUGHING! Nope, I, Ginevra Weasley, am not going to let Harry-Fucking-James-Bloody-Potter laugh while I'm this miserable._ Ginny embraced the source; the whole process was far easier than it had been two weeks ago, and regardless of her foul mood at the moment, it was still absolutely _wondrous._ As _Saidar_ flooded into her she smiled slightly, even as her feet began to throb slightly more and the switch marks on her bum stung just a little more. She looked around, noticing the Wise Ones and the Aes Sedai watching her, and the three men ahead of her shiver. The three men ahead of her also looked around, and then down at Aviendha, who shook her head slightly. She crooked an eyebrow and smirked. _So, they're going to let me do what I want for a moment. I'll probably have to do some sort of punishment later for it but it will be Oh. So. _Worth it.

Ginny wove a small flow of air and proceeded to flick Harry's ear lightly. Well ok maybe she flicked it rather hard, but he was so damn _comfortable_, when she definitely _wasn't_. When he turned his head around looking for who flicked him, she adopted a rather passive smile. But her thoughts drifted elsewhere anyway. _Well, I've been trying to take 'Mione's advice, and he has been paying me a lot more attention lately. But is that just because only Neville and myself understand what he-we-are going through? Ah well, I don't care how good Harry looks in that nice silk shirt, he and Nev still look like smug arses. _

As Harry turned back around she wove a slightly larger flow of air and cuffed him over the head. His head immediately snapped around, and immediately looked at her, then smirked slightly. Ginny's smile widened slightly. _What is he thinking?_ Almost as soon as the thought popped into her head she started feeling air begin to swirl around her. Then she began to laugh. _He's tickling me! With the power! He has no right to make me laugh when I'm this bloody miserable! AAH!_ At her sudden scowl he immediately turned around and the tickling air stopped immediately, but she could see his shoulders shaking with laughter. _Bloody dishy fucking poncy arsed wanker._

Looking around she noticed Egwene walking towards her and her frown deepened at the thought of a reprimand from the young woman. After a moment, however, she smirked lightly. _Well maybe this might actually be interesting; if she keeps up that damn charade of hers I can shut her down. _Ginny knew Egwene wasn't a full Aes Sedai like she pretended. She didn't have that ageless face that Moiraine displayed, nor did she always tell the truth; she was good at hiding her lies, but Ginny had grown up around six brothers. Ginny saw right through the young woman.

"Child, would you please demonstrate some of your remarkable weaves of Spirit again for me?" Egwene asked politely, but with a strong hint of authority.

Out of the corner of her eye Ginny noticed the Wise Ones watching, so she lowered her voice to avoid a scene. "No, Egwene, not unless you admit it."

Egwene stiffened slightly, but lowered her voice all the same. "What-admit what, Ginevra?"

"Oh don't give me that shite Egwene." Ginny whispered furiously. "I'm not daft; we both bloody well know you aren't Aes Sedai. I don't know why Moiraine allows it, but I grew up with six brothers, I can see the little lies. So unless you are going to tell me you are Dark, then I have to guess that you are probably just an Accepted, judging from the ring." Ginny trailed off then started again just as furiously. "And anyway, according to the Aiel, you are just an apprentice like me at the moment! I watched your arse get switched last night, so don't get all high and mighty on me. And for that matter, if you call me Ginevra one more time, Egwene, you are going to have the largest, gooiest flapping bats you have ever seen around your head!" Egwene giggled softly, then choked faintly.

"Alright, look, Ginny. I'm sorry, but-" she paused for a moment, then finished in a whispered rush, "I'm only an Accepted." She stopped for a second and looked at Ginny sideways as if gauging her reaction.

"Fine, but why the act Egwene? I'm sure they would have trained you anyway, its not like I care, and you grew up with Rand and Mat. For that matter, if I've learned anything of _ji'e'toh_ since I got here, you are going to be in for it when you admit it to the Wise Ones."

"Well," she started, "I was put on assignment by the Amyrlin a couple of months past, we were sent to hunt...certain people. You remember who the Amyrlin Seat is right?" At Ginny's nod she continued. "We were given permission to act like Aes Sedai provided we explicitly tell the truth. Being Aes Sedai opens a lot of doors that normally don't open, so that, and the ability to actually lie if we absolutely had to, made our assignment a great deal easier." Ginny nodded and Egwene kept speaking. "When we came to the Waste, it... well it kept me in the loop, to say I was Aes Sedai." Egwene finished sheepishly.

Ginny laughed softly. So long as Egwene was willing to admit it, she was willing to let the whole thing go. "Fine, I get it, but you owe me one and I am _never_ going to let you live this down. Friends, then?"

"Uh, yes! Yes-that would be great. Friends, then." Egwene replied haltingly.

"Ok then! Here, lets start on those weaves. What you have to remember with all of these weaves, is that you have to want them to happen, essentially. Like the patronus," Ginny began to weave an enormously complex weave of Spirit into a tight space in her open palm, while thinking of the last Christmas they'd had at the burrow, "you have to pull up happy memories. The spe-weave uses the positive emotion and turns it into a...patron...or maybe an avatar, of whatever makes you happy, or whatever, whomever you love. But I've told you this before. You just need to remember the _intent_ part of it."

Ginny allowed the weave to coalesce and a shining silver tiger burst from her palm. As usual when any of the channelers demonstrated or attempted the weave, everyone in the area turned to watch the patronus as it prowled around the pair of women. Ginny beckoned the creature to herself. "Go to Harry, tell him: 'Harry, get off your high horse before you get sores on your arse.'" Ginny giggled at Harry's expression and Neville's shrug as the patronus delivered its message. The weaves that the three had brought had caused no small bit of astonishment among the women of the camp. She remembered the day after their arrival when Moiraine had pulled them aside.

* * *

_"Wake up Miss Weasley. Moiraine Sedai has requested your presence." Came the soft voice from the area near her feet._

_It was early, far too early to wake up with how tired she still felt. All she wanted to do was snuggle back into her comfortable four poster. And anyway, who was this 'Moiraine'? Ginny started to drift off to sleep again. GAH! Who the hell was shaking her. And why did her bed smell different? Almost like dry goats, as much sense as that made. She opened her eyes to see the woman in the white robes kneeling next to her shaking her awake lightly. "Who?" Ginny began to say before all the memories crashed back into her conscious mind. She remembered the previous day; that they were in an entirely strange place; that she might not see her family again. Ginny wanted to turn into her pillow and sob until she ran dry, but bugger if she was going to let this woman see her cry. "Oh." She said after a moment of collecting her thoughts. "S'ok I'll be up, just need a brush please." Ginny began to get out of her sleeping mat then realized she couldn't find her clothes. "Er, my clothes" She asked the woman, who nodded slightly then replied._

_"They have been taken to wash, I have left some here for you." The woman pointed to a pile containing a brown skirt, stockings and a clean white blouse. There was a distinct lack of knickers or bras._

_Ginny coughed slightly. Definitely a strange place. "Umm. Where is my underwear?" The woman looked at her questioningly. "You know, knickers?" Still the questioning look. Ginny tried to think of a different word, then hit on a term she had read in some trashy novel somewhere. "Smallclothes?" Yet still that blasted look remained fixed to the woman's face. "Can you bring Egwene Sedai please?" The woman nodded and darted from the tent to fetch Egwene. _

_Twenty minutes and a horribly embarrassing explanation later, Ginny was in Moiraine's tent brushing her hair rather violently and waiting for Harry and Neville to arrive. _Figures they would be late, even after everything I had to deal with this morning. _She thought, as she looked around the tent, which had various rocks, metals, materials, and other things cluttered on one side. There was even a cage with some mice, of all things, inside. Moiraine was seated serenely_ _at the other end of the tent. _How the hell can she be serene at this time of day?

_Half an hour later Harry and Neville staggered into the tent just in front of several of the Wise Ones, Egwene, Rand, and a tall, dark-haired, man with a face that could have been chipped from granite. "What happened to you two? I've been here for a half hour already." Ginny asked quietly as Harry and Neville sank to their seats on either side. "And you both smell like arse."_

_"We had to run." Harry panted._

_"From what!?" Ginny asked, slightly shocked._

_"Nothing...nothing...he made us run...'till we fell over...Been up... for three hours." Harry said between breaths. _

_"Oh." Ginny said, mollified by their explanation. _

_Moiraine clearing her voice and turning to them caused their whispered conversation to die immediately as she spoke. "Well I hope you three are well rested. As you have learned, Harry, Neville, you will be getting training from Lan, Rhuarc, Rand, and myself, in various disciplines." Harry waved his assent tiredly and Neville just nodded slightly. "You will also receive training, Ginevra, from myself and the Wise Ones. You will all be learning how to control the One Power."_

_Harry spoke, his voice tired, but gaining strength. "Moiraine, er, Sedai," he stumbled over the strange honorific, "how do you know I can use this 'One Power.'" He said the word as if testing it for correctness._

_Moiraine smiled slightly. "I know, because it is the basis for what you call magic, although it is, in many ways, far more powerful. That is the reason you are here today. From what Rand has told me of what you showed him in Rhuidean, your 'magic' uses the True Source in a rather unique manner. I would like it if you three, especially you, Ginny, could show us some of your, ah, spells."_

_"Why me especially? There isn't any difference in how we do things, not that I really care, but." Ginny stated questioningly. _

_Moiraine and the rest of the women looked at her strangely, then Moiraine responded. "Well, you will learn more about this as we go on, but, the One Power is divided into male and female halves. They are the same, yet different. If that makes sense to you? I expect that whatever your wand does we will be able to see, but Rand will not. The opposite should be true for Harry and Neville." She motioned for Rand to hold out the wands. Ginny grabbed hers and relished in the warm feeling she had when she was reunited with the instrument. _

_"What do you want me to do?" Ginny asked hesitantly. _

_"Something simple at first, please, just levitate or summon an object. You can attempt some transfiguration in a minute." Moiraine replied._

_Ginny nodded, thought for a second and smirked. She whipped her wand around and pointing and flicking it at Harry, then quickly Neville, clearly stating _"Levicorpus." _Both boys yelled indignantly at being dragged up by their ankles as all the Wise Ones and Moiraine put their heads together muttering. _

_"It was clearly Spirit she used, but I see only bonds of air." One of the Wise Ones muttered._

_Another quietly whispered. "She embraced the source momentarily, it was as if she never held it."_

_Still another, Ginny thought her name was Melaine asked a very strange question. "Child, how did you call the bonds of air?"_

_Ginny bristled at being called a child, but answered anyway. "I didn't," more whispering, "I simply wanted them to be dragged up by their ankles, flicked my wand, and stated the incantation. There was no gathering air about it." Still further whispers, and Moiraine looked thoughtful._

_"Hey, er, Ginny. Could you, ah, put us down?" Harry asked from her right side. _

_Ginny turned to see a very red-faced Harry giving her a rather strained smile before she said, _"Liberacorpus" _to release them. _

_Discussion in the tent among the women began to grow as different arguments coalesced and sides began to form. Rand and Lan sat impassively while the three teenagers looked around at the normally stoic women with mouths gaping in surprise. _

_Suddenly there was a loud, nearly ear shattering bang. Every head turned to Neville who was holding his wand over his head with an almost bored look on his face. "Thank you. I believe Harry has some information for you if you can be quiet long enough to hear it." He turned to Harry, ignoring the flinty gaze of nearly every woman in the tent, and gestured for him to continue._

_"Er, thanks Nev. Look, if there is one thing I learned in my education, it is that the mag- the way we use the 'One Power', is intent based. You have to want to do what you are doing."_

_"That makes no sense!" Egwene shot back. "Surely just by setting down a weave you obviously want to do what you are doing."_

_"If you were being forced to kill someone, would you still 'want' to do it?" Harry's voice was as quiet as a whisper and hard as steel._

_Egwene was quiet, but her hands immediately went to her neck, and a look of horror flashed across her face._

I wonder what that was all about?_ Ginny filed the thought away. She watched the expressions of the people in the tent. Moiraine obviously saw where Harry was directing their thoughts; Ginny thought she knew as well, but it didn't look as though many others in the tent were catching on yet._

_"I thought not." Harry's voice was still hard as iron, but softened as he continued. "I can assume that this Spirit you are all talking about is part of the 'One Power'?"_

_"Yes." Moiraine replied. "There are five elements or divisions to the One Power: Fire, Air, Earth, Water, and Spirit. Spirit tends to deal with the mind of either the target or the user."_

_"So it follows that you could use Spirit to project the mental _intent_ of the user onto their environment. From the conversations I overheard yesterday, I understand that the world, er-reality?-is based on something called the Pattern or the Lace of Ages. Right?"_

_"Yes." Moiraine replied tersely, as if eager to hear the rest of Harry's thoughts, but she elaborated anyway. "The threads that make up the Lace of Ages, or the Pattern, are human lives."_

_"Ok then." Harry seemed almost eager. "If Spirit projects the mental intent of the user onto the environment, it can be said to essentially work directly on the pattern then, yeah?"_

_"You do not understand that of which you speak, boy." Sorilea admonished. "You cannot simply change the Lace of Ages to fit your needs only the Wheel itself can decide what is needed."_

_"Why not?" Harry replied, apparently stung at the dismissal. "If I were to kill someone here, right now, would the pattern be changed, even in the slightest?"_

_"Well yes, but-" Egwene seemed slightly flustered at the direction the conversation had suddenly taken. Sorilea, however looked rather impressed, as far as hardened, suntanned leather can look impressed. _

_"So I can affect the Pattern with my own two hands. Why can't I use the force that supposedly drives the whole thing to affect it?"_

_Only silence greeted him as the Wise Ones, and especially Egwene, took on glazed, thoughtful looks. Ginny looked over at Moiraine, expecting to see the same look on the ageless face, but saw, of all things, a proud smile as she looked at Harry. _

_Harry cleared his throat and spoke up again. "So, our intent, our choices, are what affect the shape of the Pattern. Flows of Spirit, then don't affect the user or any they are used on. They affects the threads in the pattern in some way, and force the users intent onto the pattern."_

_A few hours passed after the initially heated discussion. The women had her demonstrate various spells to see the weaves. For the first few demonstrations they had the boys copy her until they were satisfied that the wand movements and incantations were identical. It wasn't until near the end that Rand leaned over and murmured something to Harry that caused him to laugh. Ginny raised an eyebrow and looked at him questioningly._

_"Just wait till you see their faces." Harry whispered quietly in her ear. She shivered slightly at the contact, but shook her head slightly to clear it. He then stood and coughed slightly. "There is one you may like to see, we found it was rather...unique. You'll have to step outside though."_

Oh, the patronus! That should be fun. _Ginny giggled to herself as everyone in the tent gathered outside. Ginny waited for a moment, then stepped outside and halfheartedly listened to Harry's explanation of the spell and its uses. _I suppose I should really stop thinking of what I do in terms of magic and spells. I think they called it, weaving? Yes that was definitely it. _She was brought out of her thoughts as Harry's loud incantation rang out over the camp. The silvery Dragon began to rush from the wand tip. The ten meter Dragon twisted and curled among the tents, bringing Aiel to a stand still at its passing. It wasn't long before Rand was asked to duplicate the weave, and a second Dragon was twisting about the camp. _

_The voice of one of the Wise Ones brought her out of her musings._

_"Sorry, what was that? I was... thinking." Ginny called back. She wasn't thinking of anything of any import, but no reason to tell them that._

_"You can do this as well, young Ginevra?" It was Amys that called out to her from the other side of the gathering. _

Why do they keep doing that! It's like having a dozen McGonnagalls breathing down my neck, and _all_ of them using my full name! Nothing for it I guess._ Ginny sighed slightly as she nodded and drew her wand. "It will look different." The assembled women nodded; Ginny flicked her wand and muttered the incantation. Just as she finished speaking, an immense silver tiger burst from the tip of the wand. Many of the women around began whispering, examining the silver creature. _

_Ginny hardly noticed as Egwene approached. "That is a very unique weave, Ginevra,"_

Merlin's soggy- why can't they bloody well use my name right? And anyway, Egwene is only a few years older than me, there's no _way_ she's full Aes Sedai. I heard it takes years.

_Egwene continued, oblivious to Ginny's mutinous thoughts, "could you please repeat it? It forms quite rapidly on the end of your, ah, wand and then expands into the final shape."_

_Ginny ground her teeth and smiled slightly. "Sure, nope, no problem at all."_

* * *

Harry chuckled as Ginny's patronus faded, he could hear Neville laughing next to him at the cheeky tone of the patronus. _We're all safer when she's cheeky to when she's mad. _Ginny had taken a strip out of their hides just the other day for teasing her. Then again, it was probably deserved, seeing as they had been teasing her about not being able to sit on her bum; and she _had_ just been switched. Rhuarc had even come by to make sure everything was ok. Needless to say _Harry-sodding-Potter_ and _Neville-bleedin'-Longbottom_ had been the evening's entertainment as they ran from her tent with giant flapping bogies around their heads. The Maidens had also taken to Ginny like a little sister which hadn't helped. If anything, it had made her a touch more vindictive and sly.

Well_, at least this whole fiasco hasn't dampened her spirit. _The thought sobered Harry quickly and his smile faded as if it had never been. _Ginny and Nev must hate me for bringing them here. I didn't mean to, but now they're stuck here with me away from everyone they love, in a totally unrelated war. For that matter, why didn't the two of them just scarper and avoid him? _

It took Neville's incredulous, but slightly sad, question to make Harry realize he had said anything at all. "Really, mate you think that?"

"Er, think what mate?" Harry asked sheepishly.

"That we hate you for bringing us here!?" Neville nearly shouted.

"Oh. That. Look mate its alright if you-"

Neville cut across him in an exasperated, almost pleading tone. "Merlin, mate! Get your head on straight. I certainly don't hate you for it! Hell, I'm not even bloody angry! I don't think even Ginny is even angry at you at all. Well at least not for bringing us here, and I'm actually having an excellent time."

Neville's attempt at humor was entirely lost on Harry. _Why is he lying to himself? This has to be horrible for them. They left people behind!_ "Look Nev, it's alright if you do, I mean you both have people back home. I don't. Even if this was all an accident." Harry's tone was placating, but Neville was apparently having none of it.

"Look, Harry, I'll call Ginny up here if I have to," Harry shuddered slightly, "but seriously, you left just as much behind as I did, at, and probably more! All I really have are Gran and my parents, and honestly, they are about as there as yours are." Neville flinched slightly at his own statement. "You might not have any real family, but you have the Weasleys. Anyway, I have you and Ginny here; she has you and me."

Neville's last comment caught Harry by surprise, and the previous subject was banished from his thoughts. _Nev and Ginny? Is that a thing; I could swear they only went to the Yule Ball in fourth year. No real harm in asking I guess._ "Nev, are, er, you and Ginny... you know...er, dating? - I mean, if you are... that's cool! but... I was, er, just...wondering?" His voice cracked slightly as he finished, bringing out the last word in a slight squeak.

Neville looked shocked for a moment at the change of subject, before laughing hard enough to bring tears to his eyes. "No mate! You...I promise you, have absolutely nothing to worry about in that department."

"What? What do you mean?"

Neville just kept laughing as they slowly drew abreast of Rand, who was looking decidedly uncomfortable with the day's 'how-to-be-Aiel' lecture from Aviendha. She crooked an eyebrow at them as they approached. Harry had quickly learned that many of the women here, the Wise Ones in particular, had...expressive...eyebrows. Interpreting said expressions was another matter entirely; he was rather positive that Aviendha's were communicating violence if they did not remove themselves.

Neville simply raised his hands in supplication and rode on and Harry eyed Aviendha warily as they moved further up the column.

The Aiel they were travelling with were exclusively Taardad. The Shaido were travelling alongside, though explicitly separate. Apparently in a few more weeks, after a stop at a place called Cold Rocks Hold, the clan was to join with the other eleven at someplace called Alcair Dal. From what Harry had heard over the last two weeks it was a supposedly sacred meeting place for the clan chiefs. There, according to the Wise Ones-and Moiraine- Rand was to announce the fact that he was the _Car'a'carn_ to all of the Aiel. To be fair to the whims of fate and a man called Murphy, Harry really couldn't see this going as planned. Even if Alcair Dal had the same sort of sacred peace that Rhuidean did; they had seen how much that meant if certain Aiel got angry enough.

Today, however, the Aiel, and the peddlers they had picked up the previous day, were to stop at Imre Stand.

The sun was still well above the horizon when the column suddenly came to a halt. Harry could see a pair of Aiel, possibly Maidens, running up to Rhuarc. They paused for a minute, held a short conversation, then Rhuarc and several dozen Aiel began to run towards their destination, veiling themselves as they ran.

Harry nudged Neville with his elbow and gestured towards Rand. "Let's find out what's going on."

Neville looked up as if startled. "Yeah... sure."

Harry heeled his silvery grey, Antares, and trotted up alongside Rand, Neville coming just behind. Rand was talking quietly with Aviendha when he approached, and it looked to Harry that Rand was more than just a little bit frustrated with his fiery tempered babysitter. Harry caught the tail end of what Rand had been saying. "You can answer a simple question! What kind of trouble?"

She flushed, but replied flatly. "It is most likely that there was a raid, for goats or sheep; either could be herded at Imre. Most likely goats, however, because of the water. It was likely the Chareen. Maybe the White Mountain or Jarra sept, they are closest. It could be a sept of the Goshien, or maybe the Tomanelle, but they are too far, I think."

"Will there be fighting?" Harry asked, slipping into the void as Lan had taught him, and seizing _Saidin._ Rand and Neville both glanced at him as he pulled on the Source, and then nearly gagged at the taint. "Well?"

Aviendha looked at him sharply. "No" She said after a moment. "Adelin would have mentioned any raiders still in the area. The herds and gai'shain are long gone by now; we cannot recover the herd because we must accompany you." She pointedly looked at Rand.

"And what about the prisoners they took!?" Harry's voice was heated. "You don't just leave people to be hurt!"

Aviendha cut across him, sharp as a razor. "Do not speak of that which you do not know Harry Potter! Harming gai'shain is of the lowest of acts. They will serve their year and a day and return to us! They are not _wetlander_ prisoners to be interrogated and tortured for information; do not think so low of the Aiel!"

"I-I'm sorry Aviendha. I don't think low of the Aiel, I just don't understand." The horses whickered softly, sensing the tension.

"Yes, you do not understand." Aviendha glared up at him. "So, I say this to you Harry Potter: understand first, then make judgment!"

She was right, he didn't get it and really couldn't judge; that didn't mean the whole situation didn't bother him, however. Harry shook his head, trying to clear it, still aggravated by their lack of action, but chose to pit the matter aside. _There are more important things I think, at the moment than barmy Aiel and their strange notions of honor._ He shrugged and looked to Rand. The tall redhead shook his head, then motioned to the two boys and they heeled their horses after Rhuarc.

When Imre Stand came into view, it held something of a surprise. As if to make a mockery of Aviendha's rather dire predictions, the place looked rather peaceful, for the Waste. A few shaggy white goats idly wandered and grazed on tough grass and thorny bushes. A small, rough, stone building was set against the base of a small butte. It had arrow slits and only one visible door. Another building, slightly larger, sat on a higher ledge. Rhuarc stood, apparently alone, a ways from the butte. The tranquility of the scene and the obvious worry from earlier, made the hair on the back of Harry's neck prickle. He reined up beside Rand as the older man dismounted.

"The goats," he heard Neville and Aviendha murmur. "Most of the goats are still here."

"If I didn't know any better," Rand started, sounding troubled, "they've been wandering around here for quite a while."

"Days, it looks like." Rhuarc agreed.

Harry decided not to ask the question they were all thinking. The whole scene was making his stomach churn and his heart to thump with nervousness. _What happened here? This feels like that moment in the graveyard just before Cedric died. _They started forward, Rand and Rhuarc leading with Harry, Neville, and Aviendha following just behind.

Harry flinched as a shadow passed behind him and he looked behind with more than his fair share of trepidation. It was only Mat, however, who just nodded slightly, tipping his hat; Harry noticed the man had a white knuckle grip on his strange black spear.

The door of the small dwelling looked as if it had been hacked to pieces. Rand and Rhuarc poked their heads in, but pulled back quickly. Harry snatched the source as he felt the power fill Rand and saw a power wrought sword form in the man's hands. Aviendha too, stepped in through the door, but backed out as fast as she had gone in, looking away from the rest of the group.

Harry, curious as to what had everyone so shocked, stepped into the small building, looking around. Some black paint had been splashed over the walls; everything else in the small building had been strewn about as if it had been ransacked. Pots were dented and thrown about; the small sleeping mats had been torn, and the contents spread everywhere. It took only a moment more for Harry to realize what the dark paint was.

_Oh Merlin..._ He pushed out past Neville and Mat, who looked at him curiously, before turning to the small shack. He stumbled only a few paces before losing his lunch. It was sickening, he could almost see what had happened to the men inside. _Oh Merlin... what could-who could do that to someone?_ As if he had spoken aloud, he heard Mat mutter something that sounded like Trollocs, over the sound of Neville's heaves.

"Trollocs." Aviendha scoffed. "Trollocs do not come this far into the Three-fold Land, wetlander. And even then only seldom. They do not hunt in the Three-fold Land. We hunt them." She didn't sound entirely convinced of her own statement.

"Wh-What the hell are you three talking about? Trollocs?" Harry gasped the sentence as his stomach gave another uncomfortable lurch.

"Ah, yes, I had forgotten that you would not know; not understand." Rhuarc had a slightly sad cast to his eyes as he spoke. "You have been told the history of this land? You know of the War of Power? The Breaking?"

Harry and Neville nodded in response.

"During the War of Power the forsaken known as Aginor committed some of the most terrible crimes." Rand continued. "He took human prisoners, and _twisted _them" the word left his lips with distaste, "with animals. They are beasts of the Dark One. They are intelligent, but full of malice."

"Oh." Harry's voice was faint as he digested the information.

Mat's voice followed in a humorless drawl. "There are also Myrddraal, affectionately known as Fades, Lurks, Halfmen, Shadowmen, or, my personal favorite, _the Eyeless_."

Harry saw Neville shiver slightly. "_Eyeless_?"

"Yeah. They don't have eyes. Don't you worry though, they can see your sorry arse just fine." His voice was deadpan.

"There is a saying in the borderlands. 'The look of the Eyeless is fear.'" Rand stated. "When they look at you, and in particular when you look at them in the, uh, _eyes_, an irrational fear takes hold. That isn't all though, they are excellent swordsmen and are very difficult to kill."

Harry let out a humorless laugh. The Myrddraal reminded him of dementors. It figured that the one thing he feared more than Voldemort would make an appearance wherever he went.

At Rand's slightly shocked expression and Rhuarc's questioning eyebrow Harry replied. "We have something similar where I'm from. They're called dementors, when they get close, they force you to relive your worst memories. They have an aura of...well, fear. The patronus is the only defense." His voice was dry as tinder.

The two Aielmen simply nodded, and Mat, curiously, shuddered visibly and rubbed the scarf he had tied around his neck. He dismissed the action, assuming that the man was, rationally, just afraid of being hung again.

Harry started out of his thoughts as, at a terse signal from Rhuarc, a dozen Aiel seemed to materialize from the ground. Soon after, the rest of the caravan filed into the scrubland of Imre. As the different camps of the Wise Ones, Shaido, and Jindo, spread out and set up, word spread of what had been found in the small building. The tension slowly filling the camp became almost palpable as the afternoon wore on. It got to the point that Harry's skin prickled with tension needing a release.

Swords. The Aiel didn't like them, but over the last two weeks Harry had found that working the forms worked as an excellent excuse. He used it to avoid Wise Ones, Maidens, Moiraine, tense situations, anything and everything that caused undue stress. That was where Harry found himself, standing next to Rand in the sweltering heat, being instructed by Lan, working the graceful sword forms; his muscles slowly turning to water. Ginny was off to the side, near a disapproving Aviendha, watching as they swept from form to form; her eyes, it seemed to Harry, followed his every move. It was unnerving, but not unduly so.

What did unsettle him, however was when Rhuarc offered to teach Rand and himself how to wield the spear, and arrived with full, steel tipped spears, and wood and rawhide buckers. Apparently there was no practice stage. Harry was about to agree to the training simply on an issue of pride, but Ginny, bless her, saved him by quietly nodding to the spot next to her. They sat quietly watching Rand learn the spears well into the afternoon.

* * *

The three teenagers were sitting in front of Ginny's small tent, ensconced in the Wise One's encampment, as the sun sank below the horizon. Neville was humming some obscure, mournful tune that neither Ginny nor Harry recognized. It was something he had taken to lately. It didn't really bother Harry, other than that if he questioned Neville on his choice of tune, he was either ignored entirely or told in no uncertain terms: 'You're barmy mate, I haven't been humming anything.' Ginny, on the other hand, seemed to grow a little more worried each time it happened.

A warning cry from the perimeter scouts wailed in the darkness. All three looked up, alarmed at the shout. It wasn't a moment before the most monstrous, disgusting, _creatures_ that Harry had ever seen came boiling out of the darkness between the tents. They were huge, each, by Harry's quick estimate, were nearly Hagrid's size. They were vaguely humanoid, but to his revulsion, all had animal faces and heads, sometimes hoofed feet; the worst were the strangely human eyes, sparkling with hate and malice that gazed out of those heads. _These must be trollocs_. He thought mutely as the creatures lumbered towards them.

Ginny's shriek brought him out of his shock. Snatching _Saidin_, Harry stood, weaving a flaming sword into existence, and struck. _The Swallow Takes Flight_, flowed smoothly into _Whirlwind on the Mountain_, then in quick succession, _The Boar Rushes Down the Mountain, Parting the Silk, Plucking the Low-Hanging Apple._ Trollocs rose from behind their fellows, and then fell to his red and gold sword. Flashes of a similar weapon at his side and the rumblings of pure power at his back prevented his own demise. Several times spears flashed nearby, and black-veiled Aiel darted past the trio. Two Fades, their eyeless stare piercing, fell to a man, maybe Mat, Harry supposed, wielding a black hafted spear. A third was pin-cushioned by dozens of arrows before losing its head to a familiar red and gold sword.

The trio fought their way through the fracas, Harry and Neville weaving through the sword forms, Ginny weaving pure destruction at their backs. They moved into a particularly dense knot of trollocs, the two young men stressed to defend themselves and Ginny. A spectacularly poor _The Cyclone Rages_ a moment later left Harry bleeding from the thigh, as a trolloc falchion slashed across his leg when the beast lumbered past. He stumbled, as his leg gave out partially, and looked up to see a dozen trollocs start towards him before being engulfed in white hot flames.

A slender arm gripped his waist, and lifted him pulling away from the burning beasts; Ginny's gentle touch surprised him in the midst of the carnage. "Merlin knows you had the power to get rid of all of them in an instant; of course you had to bloody well make a flaming sword." Her tone was equally surprising as her touch, she was angry, to be sure, but her voice was worried, but incongruously tender. "What on Earth possessed you to make a _sword_ of all things? You could have burned the blighters, blown them up, crushed them, sunk them in earth, but NO, you had to make a fucking sword!"

"Uh, maybe this isn't the-" Harry was cut off at Neville's startled yell. Behind them was a figure cloaked in black, its plate armor shining darkly, the sword it carried seeming to eat the light from the nearby fires. It faced them, expressionless, but with pure fear and hatred emanating from it in waves. The flaming sword appeared again in Harry's hands, an identical one in Neville's. The two nodded at each other, their faces set. They started towards the Myrddraal, its blade rising to meet them; a silver tiger leapt between the two men and pounced at the Myrddraal, jaws open in a silent roar. For a short moment, the Myrddraal expressionless face held a visage of the same fear it projected.

Then the two were on it, swords of fire met one of deepest black, flashes of blue pierced the cold desert air as slight concussions of air greeted every strike. It seemed to go for hours. Harry was conscious only of the _thing_ in front of him, its midnight blade, and his friend next to him. Strike, parry, block, dodge, all of it accompanied by the unearthly blue light. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up, his leg was a mass of searing agony, and the stumbles it caused had nearly cost him several times. Suddenly, and with amazingly, to Harry it seemed, little fanfare a spear was forced through the Fade's neck, the steel tip appearing in front of Harry and Neville; Veiled Aiel were sprinting by on either side. Harry sagged in relief and staggered back slightly into Ginny as he sank to the hard-pack.

He looked around slightly, noticing the sudden silence. Harry smiled slightly in satisfaction as the world slowly faded around him; a voice a meter or two ahead hummed a mournful tune and just behind him a scream rent the air; he fainted dead away.

* * *

**A/N**

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, had little bit of a block on a couple of my later scenes so it took a while. A few explanations are in order, however, to head off any flaming or whatever. First, I'm a guy in his early twenties. I know how to woo women, not think like them, so if you don't like how I wrote Ginny's POV, tell me and I'll get one of my chick friends to look over it. I DO know that Ginny's patronus is a horse. Seriously, a horse? Harry's was a stag (Noble) Ron's was a terrier (Loyal but temperamental). How does a horse (a jumpy, easy to frighten ungulate) embody a fiery, cunning, spirit and temper? I mean really, Ginny's character just screams cat of some kind. Not that she's supposed to be 'catty' that's different. There is also a precedent for how I merged the magic systems. When gateways are first introduced we learn that the weave for a gateway requires a great deal of Spirit, and that the user is literally manipulating the pattern with the weave. It also has to do with how many of the Spirit intensive weaves we know work. The warder bond ties two threads in the pattern together extremely tightly, etc. Just think about what the 'Spirit' weaves do and you'll understand my logic.

Sorry for the gargantuan A/N


	5. Chapter Four - Be All My Sins Remember'd

**THE LORDS OF THE MORNING AND EVENING**

**Chapter 4 - Be All My Sins Remember'd**

Disclaimer:

I own nothing, all works are copyright of JK Rowling and Robert Jordan for their respective works of fiction.

**A/N**

Hey all, before we get going I want to clear a few things up that some of you seem to have been confused about previously. This story is going to be AU for both universes. There will be some similar events that occur, and it won't be so AU that it becomes unrecognizable and ridiculous.

If you have any questions or concerns from the previous chapter look at my profile. The major questions are answered there.

I also did some editing and cleanup on previous chapters. Fixed some grammar and punctuation problems as well as some formatting issues. I also standardized the title at the top of each chapter.

* * *

Min stopped in front of the arched doorway that led into the White Tower. She really, _really_, didn't want to go inside. She knew that if she did, she would end up stuck. Again.

Once you ended up embroiled in Aes Sedai schemes you never really got out; especially when they involved the Dragon-bloody-Reborn. It was something Min was familiar with. She had been stuck here before, and only '_escaped'_ to end up captured by the Seanchan. _Hah! Now why am I back here again? It always seems to end so well. Oh yes, that's right, Moiraine sent me to tell the Amyrlin about the _Lord _Dragon Reborn. The Light damn that man! _The Accepted leading her glanced back, grimaced in distaste, then quickly adopted a mask of sympathy. _Bint._ Min noticed the expression, but ignored it, using her apprehension to hold her cover as 'Elmindreda' the 'put upon maiden.' _And the Light burn Moiraine for this ridiculous story. _She sighed, looked at her feet and followed the Accepted into the entry hall.

This whole situation wasn't helped in the slightest by the auras that were circling the Aes Sedai and Warders of the Tower. For that matter, the last few weeks since leaving the mountains had been filled with strange auras. It had started three weeks ago, as far as she could tell. The few auras she saw around regular people began to _shift._ They _flickered _occasionally, parts, or even whole sections of the image, changing. Even the actual meaning of them changed, which was rather...strange; it went beyond strange, it should be impossible, given that what she saw_ always _came true. If the aura itself changed, what did that mean for the fortune?

The auras she saw here in the Tower were distinctly nauseating. Dozens of women she saw passing her by had the same aura over their heads. It was a simple thing, a silver bracelet and collar, connected by a delicate chain. Min didn't need to _know _the meaning of that to understand what it meant, and the thought made bile rise in her throat; the only comfort were a few auras showing a lightning bolt breaking the collar. What that actually meant, Min had not the faintest idea, but it looked good. Other women, some with the collar, some without, and many of the Warders, were sporting auras that showed pain and death. Thankfully, Min couldn't tell exactly when these were supposed to come to pass. She rationalized that it was just the Last Battle; it had to come soon, the Dragon was reborn, after all. But there was a niggling feeling in her gut that told her something wasn't quite right, and the other auras didn't abate this feeling.

Over the head of every single Aes Sedai, she saw a broken tower. With every woman, Min could see which piece, of dozens, of the tower they were apart of. At the top of the tower was a woman wearing a red and blue shawl. She was hammering a wedge shaped like a dragon's head into the largest crack. There was something else apart of that aura; one she couldn't quite place. If she watched long enough, the tower would seal itself, the wedge becoming what looked like the keystone. The tower, however, looked... grey...for some reason, and had a distinctly _different_ look to it. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, and dredged up the information she had memorized. All of it pertained to one man, one _bloody _man; and, as if tugged in a roaring wind, her thoughts spiraled away again.

_I've been jaunting all over the bloody world for weeks to do the light knows what. All I want to do is find that bloody sheepherder and box his ears. Every damn time I try to get away from what I've been doing I get dragged back, kicking and screaming, and I _know_ it's his bloody fault. It has to be. _Which was exactly why she now found herself waiting in the White Tower under the slightly disgusted gaze of her Accepted guide. _At least this bloody girl and that guard over there are going to have some torrid love affair; serves the bint right for looking at me like that. _Min thought to herself, looking over the auras the woman had dancing about.

A girl in a white dress dashed across the room and stopped next to the Accepted, whispering in the older woman's ear. The Accepted's eyes narrowed at Min slightly before waving off the girl. "The Amyrlin will see _you_." She said the word with absolute distaste. "Follow me please." The woman then turned and led Min up through the Tower to the Amyrlin's study. She announced Min to the Keeper and waved her inside, then promptly turned on her heel, and left. Min gave the woman a cruel smirk and a wink as she walked past into the offices. With a huff, the woman stalked off down the corridor, and Min, sporting a satisfied smile, settled in to wait for the Keeper to let her in to see the Amyrlin.

True to form, she was waiting quite a while, to the point that Min's smile had turned into a scowl and her fidgeting had begun to draw a glare from the Keeper. Almost at the point she was about to burst in the office herself -_damn woman must have planned it that way; flaming Aes Sedai- _the door to the Amyrlin's study opened. A man, tall with long, dark brown hair, and a stoop that spoke of eternal loss emerged from the office. He looked like he would die tomorrow, like he wanted to just roll over; but there, above his head, she could see it, glory. Glory beyond all measure. This man would help shape everything to come. Min didn't know why, but maybe it was just the devastated look about the man, but she reached out and touched the man on the arm and spoke softly. "It _will_ get better, I promise you." The man looked at her a moment in confusion and incredulity before registering what was said, and the conviction in her voice. He shook his head dejectedly, but a glint in his eye was present, something that hadn't been there before. Maybe she'd helped. It didn't much matter really, they always came to pass.

Min walked past the man into Siuan Sanche's office. Out of the corner of her eye she saw one last vision flicker around the false Dragon. She knew what this one meant, and it scared the hell out of her, but it meant she was free, blessedly free of the Dragon-bloody-Reborn.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore faltered under the onslaught. Shot after shot had been taken at him, some, went for his very heart. His defenses were shattered and his own morale was draining. He was going to lose this fight; better he decided, at this point to just let it happen. Thus, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, one of the most powerful wizards in existence, sat down in his desk chair and allowed Molly Weasley's furious tirade to wash over him.

She had every right to be furious. Her only daughter was missing, had been missing for three days, something that would send any mother into fits; the three days of Albus waking up to howlers were indicative of Molly's feelings on the subject. Not withstanding, a boy -man- she cared about as much as one of her own was also missing, which only added to her furor. Regardless, as much as her fury was fully justified, it couldn't keep up with Albus' own anger and disappointment at himself.

He had failed the boy in almost every way possible; there were things, many things, even Harry didn't know. Some were outright failures, others were the mistakes of an old man out of his depth, most were the mistakes of a man who hadn't followed his own advice, and then placed far too much faith in the riddles of prophecy. It was insane, really, when he looked back on it. His mistakes weren't even confined to Harry, poor Mr. Longbottom, had also suffered for Albus' hubris.

His major mistakes had started near on sixteen years ago. The war at the time had been going very badly. Wizards were murdered left, right, and center, and others were turning to the Dark Lord to spare their families. Muggles were dying in huge numbers and the Prime Minister was frantic. The man had nearly gotten the Queen involved, which, for the magical community, would have been disaster due to some very old magics. Consequently, Albus had become desperate for a solution of any kind; the prophecy had arrived as a gift from what gods there were, and Albus had latched onto it like a drowning man to driftwood.

If only he had heeded his own advice.

Albus dredged through his memory, rushing through the events that had led to his current dilemma. He remembered slipping Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom potions to induce labor. He remembered convincing the Potters to rely on Pettigrew, a man he knew was at the very least was slipping the enemy information.

_Merlin, what did I... why? What was I thinking._

Once Voldemort had vanished, Albus had placed Harry with young Petunia, he had thought he knew what was best and overrode the Potter's will. Sirius was far too unstable a young man. He couldn't be left in charge of an infant, especially a boy who would be extraordinarily famous. Surely Lily's family would treat their own flesh and blood with love, or at the very least care; the young boy would need a mother figure to boot. The blood protection offered by Lily's own blood had only helped the case. No, Sirius couldn't have him. Alas, eleven years later, Albus had evidence of his own misconduct flung in his face; but he had refused to see it even then; not until he had looked at the _emptiness_ in Harry's eyes three nights ago.

_Merlin help me, the things I have done to that poor boy. They go beyond unforgivable._

Albus was yanked from memory by the sudden silence in his office. He looked up to see a red-faced Molly continuing her tirade, though alternating between Albus, and her stoic husband who had his wand pointed at his wife. Albus chuckled lightly. Leave it to Arthur to be calm and diplomatic when faced with the worst.

"Albus, as much as I would love to be furious with you, my wife has taken both of our shares apparently."

_You should be far more angry with me, Arthur, my dear boy._

"And, I also think it's probably better if we can all be civil and discuss our options and the progress on finding them."

"Arthur, Molly, I have already told you all I know on the subject. As I told you, I thankfully have some evidence that Harry is alive, but I have no knowledge of your daughter's or Mr. Longbottom's condition. We can only hope that the same circumstances surrounding Harry protect them as well." Albus paused for a moment, and noted Molly's, finally, somewhat calm expression. "I have told you that prophecies were spoken concerning the children." Regardless of Albus' waning faith in prophecies at the present he would at least cling to these as hope that the children were alive. "And that these prophecies did not detail or claim any harm coming to them. I have investigated the Room of Requirement, and because I cannot even begin to guess what young Harry was asking the room for, I cannot investigate any magical residues that he may have left behind. I'm sorry, Molly, Arthur, that's all I have for you."

That wasn't quite all, but Albus wasn't about to go into a retelling of the hours he had spent attempting to recreate the room Harry had vanished from; it had become an obsession of his, and apparently Remus Lupin's, over the last couple of days. Needless to say, some of the rooms he had created were quite _unique,_ some... were disturbing. The Veil of Death had appeared several times, much to his dismay, as well as a strange, awkwardly _twisted,_ stone doorway. Albus had a few other ideas to try, and he didn't need a frantic mother fouling his attempts.

"Have you tried locators? Tracking spells? Have you tried them on Ginny? What about owls? Have you tried sending them owls? Have you put up missing persons reports? What else have you tried?" Molly gushed as if she had been holding in her questions, which she probably had. The barrage made Albus blink slightly. He raised his eyebrow slightly as if to say 'you think I've not exhausted all options?'

"Molly, you must remember, these are my students and I put their safety as my highest priority." _Or at least I should. _"The only thing I have yet to do is file a missing persons report with the auror corps." Molly's face began to redden again and she opened her mouth. "I have good reasons not to, Molly." Albus quickly added before she could begin her tirade. "We do still need to keep Tom ignorant of Harry's disappearance. If we don't, he may begin to... expand... his operation."

"Why would Harry's disappearance matter to him Albus? Beyond the disappearance of the last of the Potters that is." Arthur asked quietly.

"It will be discussed at headquarters this evening during the Order meeting. I ask both of you to wait until then. Once again, I apologize for not having any information for you both."

Arthur nodded slightly, gently put his hands on Molly's shoulders and steered her from the office. The moment his door was closed Albus sagged back into his chair. The sleepless nights of the last few days were taking a toll on his body, and at one hundred and fourteen, he was feeling his age. Poppy had even quietly delivered a few doses of Dreamless Sleep. He picked one up and idly examined it as he thought over what he was going to tell the Order this evening. The entire Order, save for Harry's friends knew the boy was missing, but most didn't quite realize how fruitless a search for him was going to be. Albus had burned through every possible lead they had, save for the Room of Requirement, without resorting to dark magics. He couldn't possibly use _those_ particular rituals; the ones he knew were rather _exceptionally_ dark. He also couldn't very well ask the hundred and some members of the Order to sit around asking the Room of Requirement where Harry went.

Albus blinked in bemusement. Why hadn't he tried that yet, he was getting rather senile in his old age. He chuckled slightly at the thought, and with just a little more spring in his step than he had a half hour ago, walked out of his office.

* * *

Albus was sitting, more than three hours later, cross legged on the stone floor of the seventh floor corridor. By all appearances, he was staring at a blank stretch of wall, and more than a few of the ghosts and several of the staff had given him strange looks over the last two hours and fifty minutes. The rather mad atmosphere he was exuding was enhanced when the headmaster would occasionally bound to his feet with a light exclamation and begin pacing furiously in front of the poster of Barnabus the Barmy. What most didn't see, however was the door that appeared at the end of the corridor occasionally, and it was this that drew the man's undivided attention.

He had tried, for the last three hours to get the room to tell him where Harry was; sadly like most of his previous attempts, it was failing. Not outright failure of course, the room always produced _something_. Usually, however, it was a copy of one of Albus' own instruments, or another that said something similar. One of the more successful iterations had produced a clock, rather like Molly Weasley's remarkable piece. The hand with Harry's face on it had snapped from travelling to mortal peril and back to travelling as he watched. The sight had boosted Albus' rather waning confidence enough to keep him there another hour; but once again, he was running short on ideas. Stroking his beard pensively, Albus began to make a mental list of what he wanted, and what the Room could deliver.

Albus knew that you quite literally got what was asked for. If one were to ask for a ballpit room, one would recieve a ballpit room. The same was true for most anything. He also knew that what was made in the room, stayed there. Effectively, nothing it created was actually _real_, unless the object had been previously brought into the room. However, any magical constructs worked exactly as they should, as if they had all the proper enchantments in place. Needless to say, this fact had encouraged Albus to _not_ test the veiled archway that had appeared the day before. But regardless of what combination of thoughts he tried, asking the room for a way to find Harry, or even the other two for that matter, had met either with failure or some incomprehensible result; the pinnacle of which had been the room with dozens of chalkboards covered in mathematical equations, and a Technicolor picture of what he thought was his old friend Albert on the wall.

Never the less none of these apparently random results really seemed to help him when he wanted the room to do the apparently simple thing he was asking: find Harry.

_What is wrong though? The Room doesn't seem to want to give up his location. Or is it that I am just asking the wrong way? I want a room that..._

The hundred and fourteen year old headmaster leapt to his feet like a child on a trampoline. He had realized his mistake. He had been asking the room to _do_ something, not for a room itself. With that thought in mind, he began composing his request, filing it away to remember incase it should succeed.

_I need a room that has the best way to help me find Harry._

It was deceptively simple, but seeing as every prior attempt had lacked the phrase 'I need a room,' this one attempt was vastly different than every other. Hopefully it was enough of a difference to bear fruit.

Albus paced in front of the portrait, reciting the phrase in his mind with exacting precision. On his third pass, the door appeared, just as it always did. The headmaster stood at the door, his hand resting on the heavy golden handle. He was apprehensive, having been met with failure so often lately. He pushed his doubts aside and opened the door.

What was inside took the centenarian's breath away. The room beyond looked like a cathedral, albeit one he had never seen before. The floor was tiled in white marble, with what looked to be a spoked wheel set in black marble around the edge of the room. The seven spokes came together in the center of the room, where another design was inset. It was circular and two-toned, white and black, the colors separated by a sinuous line.

Looking 'round Albus noticed the room was haptagonal, the walls tiled in the same gleaming marble of the floor. The upper reaches of each wall were great windows, and oddly enough sunlight from each slanted into the room at a perfect forty five degrees. On the underside of the great dome, illuminated in the reflected sunlight, were beautiful frescoes. There were seven of them, each precisely positioned over a wall, but all of them blended and progressed slightly into their neighbors, as if each one led to the next. In each fresco, there were hundreds, thousands of people painted, some inexplicably standing out from the rest, though all of them seemed exceptionally generic, as if they could be anyone. From those, there were one or two people featuring prominently. In most of the frescoes there was a darkening on one side. In some, it was an almost tangible line separating light from dark, in others it was entirely absent. Just below the frescoes and wrapping around the entire room, was the image of a creature of some sort. It was scaled red and gold and seemed to resemble the images of the ancient Chinese dragons.

Continuing in his examination of the room, Albus turned back to the entryway, then looked up. The fresco just above the door to the cathedral was somehow familiar. It was rather simple, with the people in the background of the image appearing faint, as if they were generally inconsequential to the image as a whole. Two figures featured prominently, and were, as ever, generic, looking like anyone and nothing like anyone. They each stood in a fighting stance, staring at each other across the invisible line that separated light from dark. One carried an almost sinuous blade, the natural folds in the metal looked like scales. The other carried an almost angular sabre, its strange shape almost a lightning bolt.

The two on either side were equally as beautiful as the first, though were undoubtedly very different. To the left, the fresco featured a man and a woman, each with thousands of people behind them. The woman was holding a sphere of light in one hand, and in the other she held, outstretched, the ying-yang-like symbol. The man held a sword in one hand, and to Albus' astonishment, a wand in the other. The two looked out at the room, as if seeking the viewer's opinion, or giving them a choice. On the other side of the original was an almost two toned fresco. On the light side was a man, once again, generic, but he stood, straight-backed and proud, pointing a sword at the pan across from him. The other manlooked almost demonic. Black tendrils looped off of his body, wrapping themselves around people in the background, one tendril even touching, though just barely, his opponent. The dark man's smile was horrifying, his eyes and mouth opened to almost endless flaming corridors, looking like the gates of hell themselves. These two figures stood on a ying-yang symbol which looked to be shattering beneath their feet.

Albus tore his gaze away from the captivating ceiling, and looked about the room. In the far corner from where he stood, directly opposite the door he entered from, Albus noticed a familiar red stone doorway set on a slightly raised pedestal. He took a few steps towards it, taking in more detail. The doorway was _twisted_ strangely, so that his eyes seemed to fall away from the object, and there were three lines of triangles, point down, running along each upright. He had seen the object on one of his previous tries on the room, but not in this setting. Inlaid in the wall above the doorway was an inscription, and below that, a second:

_Ne ferrum, non musicae, non lux._

_Unde scriptum est in foedere ita quod consensus sit factum.  
__Cogitatio est sagitta temporis memoria incorruptam.  
__Quaesitum est, quid est ei.  
__Aliquam et pretium solutum._

Albus stepped even closer, noticing a symbol and a third inscription on the ground. The symbol was a triangle, the point facing him, a sinuous line bisecting it. The inscription below read:

_Aequo animo esto ut confirmet, ut ignis et cæci, music ad cæcare, ferro tenere._

Albus looked up from the inscriptions and examined the doorway, tracing the twisting form with his wand. He could feel the immense magic of the object. It didn't feel malevolent or dark, but there was something..._something_. The object felt almost..._hungry_. A sensation which kept him, quite sensibly, from stepping through the object. Albus copied the inscriptions, symbols, and a cursory description of the room and frescoes into a notebook he kept hidden in his voluminous robes. He also wrote down the exact phrase that had granted him access before idly flipping back through the other pages.

The notebook was filled with descriptions of other rooms and the ideas needed to access them; there were hundreds of rooms described, but this particular one seemed special. It wasn't just the beauty of the room that drew Albus, and it was spectacular; it was the timeless feel to the room, it seemed almost otherworldly.

"You're gonna be late, you old duffer!"

His watch brought him from his examinations of the room with the squeaky reminder. Albus jumped, glanced at the time on his watch and hurried from the room. As he left, he checked to make sure the door vanished when he closed it and dashed out of the school.

* * *

Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place had been an exceptionally somber locale the last three days. Sirius' death in the Department of Mysteries had put a dour mood on the Order of the Phoenix, which was only amplified when it was discovered that the three teenagers were missing. Even Kreacher was gone, not that anyone missed him. He had died at apparently the same moment as Sirius. Most days the building was empty, except for the rather haunted form that was Remus Lupin, who seemed to skulk from room to room looking like nothing more than a ghost.

Currently, however, the still silent kitchen was full of people. Remus sat on a chair he had pulled off into a corner. He didn't want to be seen or noticed; and he didn't see or notice anyone else, even the pretty woman kneeling in front of him with blue hair falling over of tear filled eyes had failed to catch his attention for long these last few days.

For Remus there was barely a world left to even pay attention to. Almost everyone he cared about was gone, James, Lily, Sirius. Harry had vanished. The only person he had left was the woman kneeling wither her hands on his knees.

_Nymphadora_ He thought fondly, sadly. _She should have so much more._

She looked slightly angry now. Her hair had red streaks running though it. It always did that when she was angry. He didn't want her to be angry, only happy; something he knew was a remote possibility with him, especially now. Still, he didn't want the discussion, he just wanted to sit and grieve.

Dumbledore's arrival spared him the conversation, and drew Tonks' attention away from him.

Remus was worried about Harry, deeply worried, it was part of what had him in his current state. He knew how he was feeling, and couldn't imagine how Harry was dealing with everything. It was painfully obvious that his disappearance was a result of Sirius' passing. All Remus wanted to know was if Harry was safe, he didn't really care where the young man had sequestered himself, that wasn't his prerogative; Harry's safety and happiness _was_, it was a duty left by James and Lily to Sirius, and by Sirius to Remus. And at the moment he hadn't the foggiest idea.

Voldemort would have gloated, which made it clear the monster didn't have Harry; something which Remus was thankful for. One of the only possibilities, especially considering the evidence (or lack thereof) that Dumbledore had, was that Harry had vanished of his own accord, and that the other two had followed him. Whether to help him, or bring him back, it didn't really matter. Nearly all of Remus' waking hours were consumed reading through the Black library on phenomenon similar to what happened during Harry's disappearance. Or, like Albus, Remus was often sitting in front of the Room of Requirement running through ideas and phrases to find a room that had the residue of Harry's magical signature.

When Dumbledore, sometime during the middle of the meeting, announced that he had acquired some new evidence that may lead to Harry's whereabouts, Remus snapped to attention; the Order members nearby looked over in shock at the man whom they thought had been near unreachable. His wolf like sense of hearing picked up everything the man said. His description of the room was astounding. The inscriptions made the entire situation intriguing to say the least, and when Remus mentally translated them, his thoughts began to race.

It was only when Bill Weasley spoke up that the meeting grew quiet again. "I've seen some of these inscriptions. And, I've also seen the symbol before." He paused for a second, looking at the drawing. "It's one of the introductory lessons on curse breaking, and why not to 'just do as the instructions say' in a tomb. Inside the Bent Pyramid in Egypt, there is a metal wall. On either side of the hallway next to the metal wall this symbol," he gestured to the triangle and line, "is engraved, and what was a bronze dagger was driven into the center. Next to the symbol those words are also engraved: 'Courage to strengthen, fire to blind, music to dazzle, iron to bind.' It's engraved in dozens of different languages; Egyptian, Cuneiform, Latin, Hebrew, Arabic. All the major ancient languages are there; there's even one we don't recognize. The general consensus is that it is a warning. When that symbol," he gestured to the triangle again, "is drawn on the wall with a bronze knife, a doorway opens. Anyone who has ever stepped through has never returned." Bill finished his lecture, looking around the table to make sure everyone understood. He shrugged at the odd looks he was receiving. "It's one of the bigger mysteries of curse breaking., and one of my favorites."

"Aside from ghost stories, does anyone recognize the figures in the paintings? Or any of the other symbols for that matter?" Remus' voice was quiet as he gestured to the yin-yang analog.

"That one..."  
"Looks like a yin-yang." Came the twin's chorus.

Remus shot them a look, and they raised their hands, as if to show they were innocent.

"No, mate, seriously..."  
"It represents balance..."  
"You know, life and death..."  
"Good and evil..."  
"Gred and..."  
"Forge!"

The two winked, but cut their humor at Tonks' icy glare. Remus rolled his eyes at the two before continuing. "None of this seems to help us figure out where exactly Harry has gone, or even how any of this," he waved his arms over Dumbledore's notes, "helps us find him."

"For that, I believe, my dear boy," Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling madly, "we use the doorway." A rather shocked silence greeted his announcement.

Molly sputtered across the table in disbelief. "You can't be serious headmaster, after what Bill just told us?"

Remus resisted the childhood urge to make use of the bad pun, and then soundly quashed a wave of grief over the thought. He had seen where Albus was headed and decided to dump the proverbial basket. "The other inscription likely tells us what we need to know." Remus paused and looked sidelong at Albus. At the tiny shake of the man's head Remus continued, though differently that he had originally planned. "My Latin isn't as good as it used to be," he caught Bill and Arthur's eyes, and held the sharp look as he finished his statement, "but from what I can read, there seems to be an agreement or treaty to not carry those items, there is something about questions, and some sort of price." Remus feigned a wry grimace, and he noticed Hermione's questioning look and sent another sharp look her way, warning her to silence.

"Wait a mo'-" A half dozen people started. Remus held up his hand and they quieted. He then nodded at Hermione. "You seem to have gotten it Hermione." He smiled, but narrowed his eyes slightly. _You never really stop being a professor, but lets see exactly how much she's learned._

"It might be prudent to _otherwise_ carry fire, iron, and music, but if there is a agreement or magical treaty in place then doing so could be fatal, or some other part of the bargain could be violated." Hermione's voice faded at the end as every eye latched onto her.

_Oh she's getting better._

"Well, I do believe we have our course of action!" Dumbledore clasped his hands and stood with a smile, before sweeping from the room, briefly passing by Bill, Arthur, Hermione, Minerva, and Alastor. He wasn't out of the room before all hell broke loose among the Order members.

_Well, at least now we're getting somewhere._ Remus thought with a sly smile. The world suddenly seemed just a bit brighter. He cast his eyes over the bickering Order members, they fell on Tonks. She smiled widely and winked, her hair popping to its usual bubblegum pink, before she narrowed her eyes and flicked them at the door Dumbledore had just left through. Remus gulped, she obviously knew something and wasn't about to let it pass by.

* * *

**A/N**

For those of you who are going to get mad at me over the whole Min deal. This is a AU fanfic, I can damn well do what I please. Seriously, I never understood why she had to be one of the Randettes. Her character is more like the sexy, but snarky older sister than anything else, and I plan to keep it that way.

Don't read too much into the vision of the tower. Such things are rarely entirely literal.

If you can guess the second inscription you'll get some bonus points.

Sorry about some of the extreme detail on the "room." It was an image I've had stuck in my head for quite some time and I wanted to get it out.

Also according to RJ we (as in Harry's world) is the First Age. You can figure out some of the frescoes from there. I have ideas for the other three, and I'll slip them in next time we come back to the 'old world.'

Yes the thing in the pyramid is the tower of Ghenjei.

**A/N of the A/N:**

I took a few minutes to go back over it today (one day after original posting) and did some more cleanup I had missed on my first proofread.


	6. Chapter Five - This Mortal Coil

**THE LORDS OF THE MORNING AND EVENING**

**Chapter 5 - This Mortal Coil**

Disclaimer:I own nothing, all works are copyright of JK Rowling and Robert Jordan for their respective works of fiction.

**A/N:**

Ok... So as it says on my profile, I'm not a big fan of the last chapter. It didn't really...flow. Looking forward to this one though. Also please keep in mind, Elaida is not Amyrlin...yet. It was a bit of an oversight on my part and I was having some trouble with Robert Jordan's 'split storylines' and judging when everything is occurring. So with Min's POV last chapter, I forced the timelines into some sort of synch. Enjoy the chapter.

Sorry about the wait. I got a little distracted by a side project. I was also having trouble connecting this early section with stuff I want to do later. This chapter is long. Enjoy it.

* * *

Ginny was terrified.

She was clutching Harry's limp, pale form, if only to keep him a little farther away from the man that stood in front of them.

The man was Aiel; at nearly two meters tall with red hair and clad in _cadin'sor_ made the fact almost undeniable. But he wasn't _Aiel_. That much was obvious the moment he dropped his veil. Though only the face was telling. The rictus of a smile the man wore showed teeth filed to points, and eyes so cold and glassy they looked almost dead; it was as if he was filled with nothing but darkness. The sight absolutely terrified Ginny, and her terror only increased when she tried to reach for the source and defend herself.

She hit a wall. There was _something_ between her and the sweetness of _saidar_. She couldn't see it, but it was as hard as steel. Bile rose in her throat, and tears began to run down her face as she futilely threw herself against the mental barrier. The man in front of her began to laugh maniacally as she continued to push against the mental block. A knife crusted with dried blood appeared in his hand and he slowly advanced towards her like a hyena approaching a wounded animal.

Ginny pulled the belt knife she had been given by one of the Maidens and held it, shaking in front of Harry and herself. She hadn't had any training with it, and knew she would be deluding herself if she thought it would really make a difference, but it helped her confidence. It was _something_ she could do at least; and being all alone, but for a nearly dead boy in her arms there wasn't much more she could do_. Where the hell is Nev? He was nearby last I saw him. Oh Merlin, I hope he's not dead!_

Ginny's attention had been entirely focused on the man -_thing_- in front of her, but she began looking frantically around for the other young Gryffindor. She spotted him was standing behind the man, staring vacantly in her direction, alternately humming and chuckling at something. _What- WHAT is he doing? _Ginny started calling to Neville, screaming for him to do something, to wake up. He was the only way they were going to get out of this situation, and as far as she could tell, he was off his rocker.

She looked down at Harry for a moment with the faint hope he might be awake. That hope was dashed and turned to horror. He was pale, deathly so, and when she checked for a pulse, the almost absent, thready beat caused her hammering heart to skip a beat. _Well at least he's still alive._ She thought wryly, before a thud and the crunch of breaking cartilage brought her attention.

Neville was pinning the man, holding him in was essentially a bear hug. They were both struggling, but thankfully, whether it was his desperation, luck, or something else, Neville was managing to keep the man pinned, and even keep him from struggling further as the seconds passed. Eventually the man stopped moving and just lay still. Neville didn't slacken his grip, but called over to Ginny. "Gin-Ginny! You ok!? Are you guys alright?" His voice was firm, but held the tones of the strain he was still under holding his grip.

"Ye-yeah. I'm fine, Nev, I'm good. Harry's... Harry!" She trailed off as she looked at the young man in her arms. Her slightly foggy mind was cleared by the horror that greeted her.

He was pale, deathly pale, and the dirt around them was almost muddy with blood, his blood. He didn't even seem to be breathing. With trembling hands Ginny reached for his throat. She gasped in relief as she found the thready pulse, and immediately went to work. The cut must have been far deeper than it looked, it may have even nicked an artery, but she hadn't grown up around six brothers without learning some rudimentary first aid; even if she couldn't use her wand anymore there were things she knew how to do.

Using her belt knife she ripped off a long strip of cloth from the hem of her blouse and twisted it into a chord. She then wrapped it around Harry's thigh above the still bleeding cut. She tightly knotted it, her shaking hands slowing her progress. She then cut more cloth from the hem of her skirt. It wasn't the cleanest, but, she guessed that if they could get him to Moiraine fast enough he might make it. She tied the makeshift bandage tightly over the wound, then leaned on it, and started yelling.

It took Neville's own yells to quiet her, and she looked at him through her tears as he stood next to her. _Why isn't he guarding the... that... _thing_? What? Is he out of his bleeding mind?_ She realized, based on his earlier behavior, that may have been a distinct possibility. "Nev? Why are you over here!?" Her voice was a near hysterical shriek. "You need to keep him pinned! You can't let him get up again, he'll kill all three of us!" She was almost incoherent at this point, but Neville's hands on her shoulders stopped her hysterical rant.

"Ginny, it's alright. I think he's-" Neville's voice caught and he looked away from her. "He's...I think I...he's dead."

"Oh." Ginny was too startled and flustered from the whole ordeal to respond with any more.

"Yeah... Look, I'm going to carry Harry to Moiraine's tent. You stay here and keep the body -him- bound. If you see anyone tell them to bring Moiraine to her tent."

A distant part of Ginny was reeling at Neville, this new Neville, and the changes the last two weeks had wrought. His voice was firm, commanding. It made her want to just agree and fall into line. So, she did.

She nodded and reached for the source. Blessed _saidar_, which only moments before had been so very far away, now flooded through her. Its gentle caress brought the horror of her surroundings into vivid detail. The putrid stench of trolloc that floated in the air was mixed with the smell of burning fabric and the sharp, metallic tang of blood. Around her lay dozens of dead trollocs. Many had cauterized slashes through their chest, gut, head, or neck; others were simply headless. Even more were charred husks, some had heads caved in or exploded, others had charred holes through their chests. Ginny winced at her own handiwork; thankful, at least that they hadn't been people. Her enhanced eyesight continued to roam over the carnage, and she flinched as her eyes settled on the still thrashing Fade and then she blanched as her gaze settled on the dead _Aiel_.

She quickly bound it in flows of Air, the thick cables were so tight they caused the man's bones to audibly creak, and for good measure she prepared a weave a fire to burn him to a crisp if he so much as twitched.

Neville raised an eyebrow at her then bent down and picked up Harry in a fireman's carry, making sure to keep the injured leg raised, and jogged off towards Moiraine's tent.

As Neville trotted off, Ginny sank to the ground, her gaze never leaving the body in front of her. She drew her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped around them tightly, the grimy cotton of the skirt sticking to her clammy skin as she hugged herself. Her thoughts were swirling.

She'd killed, not one, not two, but dozens. More even than Harry and Neville. It didn't matter that they didn't look human, that they didn't talk; they had the eyes. Those eyes might have been brimming with hate and malice, but they were _aware_ of what she was doing to them. The knowledge of that awareness turned her stomach. It wasn't the same as killing an animal. When she was little she used to bring injured animals home for her mum to heal. When she got older and learned to do it herself, she had learned when to put them down, if they needed it. Even up to the moment of death those creatures didn't really understand what you were doing. These things, these trollocs. They _knew._

Ginny glanced back, then stared at the _cadin'sor_ clad figure on the ground. The look in the man's eyes. That inexplicable darkness, that coldness. Silent tears ran down her face as she sat, staring at the figure, but not seeing it.

* * *

The Wise One's camp was silent. Dead trollocs littered the area, interspersed with the occasional dead Aiel. Aviendha was veiled, warily slinking through the camp; her skirts rustling ever so slightly against the shaft of the spear she held. Her footsteps were silent and swift.

The roars and screaming of the trollocs had died down some minutes ago. It had been replaced almost immediately by the yelling of a boy. Neville, she thought it had been. He had raced by carrying the other boy across his shoulders, screaming for Moiraine, his voice cracking with stress. He hadn't seen Aviendha though; she hadn't wanted to be seen. Not to say that she didn't want to help. She would have, if she had not known that Moiraine was no more than twenty paces beyond. Aviendha was surprised, however, that she didn't see the girl anywhere. The three were often together, the boys bracketing the young girl like an honor guard. To see the two without the third just after a battle was rather disconcerting.

That was why she found herself following Neville's path of broken tents and trampled fires back through the camp. The girl was a mystery. She and the two boys appeared out of nowhere, and were immediately in the graces of the Wise Ones and the two Aes Sedai. It was, of course, not her place to question it; at least not aloud, but she did wonder.

That strangeness didn't matter at the moment; the situation was simple, a girl younger than herself, though not by much, was alone and possibly injured in a camp that had only recently been filled with shadowspawn.

She stopped, still as a statue when she found the girl in question.

She was sitting stock still, a belt knife held in a white knuckle grip. The nimbus of _saidar_ surrounded her. Aviendha could make out thick flows, almost cables, of Air binding the prone man in front of her. _What is this? She-they killed Aiel? She must be shadow souled...No, she has the trust of the Wise Ones and Aes Sedai. That would not be given lightly. _

Aviendha walked up next to Ginny. Her eyes locked on the knife in the girl's hands. She would not die to carelessness now.

The girl didn't react to her approach. There was not even a flicker of acknowledgement. Aviendha reached out with a hand and lightly tapped the girl on her shoulder. Immediately the girl started violently and swung wildly with the knife. _So she attacks first thing..._ Aviendha snatched the offending wrist, the girl twisting and struggling in her grip. Her eyes narrowed. _She is so frantic. She must be mad! She is holding the power and could have burned me to a crisp!_ It was then that she noticed it. The pale complexion, dilated pupils, shivering, racing pulse, and red-rimmed eyes. The girl was panicking - _had been_ panicking - and apparently sobbing since before Aviendha even arrived. _Not shadow souled then, if she has remorse enough for tears. _They_ would never panic and cry over a job._

She shifted her grip on the girls wrist slightly and squeezed with her thumb and forefinger. The pressure forced Ginny's grip open, and allowed Aviendha to slip the knife away. She wrapped the girl in her arms, holding the girl tight even as she struggled to get away.

"Your eyes...your eyes...your teeth. Let me see them." Ginny's voice was shaky with terror.

Aviendha could barely make out the mumbled sentence and asked Ginny to repeat it.

"I-I need to see your eyes. Your eyes and your teeth. _Please._"

The request was strange to be sure. But the pleading, terrified tone in Ginny's voice was unmistakable. It was full of fear and desperation. Aviendha cocked an eyebrow, but turned her head down and looked Ginny in the eye pulling her lips back as she did so.

There was an almost palpable loosening of the tension in the air. As Ginny let out a shuddering breath Aviendha released her hold and stepped back slightly, giving the girl some room.

"Now, what is this?" Aviendha asked bluntly. Pointing to the _cadin'sor_ clad corpse. The girl's eyes flinched away when she looked at it.

"His-its teeth. Look at the teeth." Again with the strangeness; but if it provided an explanation Aviendha would look.

She stepped over to the corpse. It was beginning to cool, but rigor mortis hadn't set. She turned the head easily and heard Ginny turn around. _I did not realize the girl was so frightened of death._ Aviendha pulled the corpse's lips back almost lazily.

Her blood turned to ice. _What is this? _She hadn't realized that she had fallen back until She felt Ginny hauling her to her feet by her underarms. Aviendha opened her mouth to speak, but found she couldn't say anything. Had nothing _to_ say. The look in Ginny's eyes was simply one of commiseration. "We must notify the Wise Ones. They need to see this. That one of my people could turn so..." Ginny simply nodded in reply. "The Aes Sedai should also be told. They may know something of this."

Ginny's reply was wry. "At least one of them might."

"You do not believe the Aes Sedai to be wise?" Aviendha raised an eyebrow.

"No...it's just...you know what, never mind. Let's just make that thing's really dead then I want to go find Harry and Neville... Oh Merlin, Harry! Aviendha, did you see! Are they alright?" Ginny finished in a rush.

"Yes, I saw Neville carrying him back through the camp. This man, however, is most obviously dead, there is no more reason to be any more sure."

There was a sigh of relief before Ginny's voice turned hard. "Make. Sure. It's. Dead."

"He is dead, Ginevra Weasley, I assure you."

"Make. Sure."

Aviendha could tell there was no getting around the matter, so she walked over to the corpse, drew her belt knife and almost casually (while avoiding the sight of the teeth) slit the throat. She cleaned her knife on the corpse's clothing and turned back to Ginny. "Satisfied?"

"Yes-yes, thank you. Let's go find them." The girl promptly turned and walked off in the direction Aviendha had come.

* * *

It had been a close thing, but Harry would survive. The light knew he had lost enough blood. Moiraine lifted her hands from Harry's head and stepped back, completely exhausted. She was ready to fall over. Only Lan's strong hold kept her from falling onto her cot and standing upright. On top of fighting a veritable horde of trollocs (nearly five fists) she had stopped to provide healing for quite a few men and women, because, apparently the Wise Ones had no knowledge of the healing arts. Thankfully, when Neville had reached her with a half dead Harry over his shoulders, Moiraine had enough energy to heal the thin, but nearly fatal slash.

Now, Harry was the least of her concerns. The girl, Ginevra hadn't accompanied Neville. "Where is Miss Weasley?"

Neville's head snapped around and he turned towards her. His shirt was covered in drying blood. "Ginny? Oh, I left her...left her guarding the-the man."

"What man? Come on, speak up, boy!" Sorilea's voice was hard and businesslike as the woman stepped into the tent with a pair of white robed women. Moiraine had sent a gai'shain to ask if the woman had any healing remedies.

"The man. The Aiel that attacked us. He could channel. I don't know I didn't recognize him. He was laughing. Laughing at GInny. But he was channeling something at her, I didn't know what. So...So I grabbed him. I th-think he was stabbed with his own knife. Merlin, I killed someone!" Neville was stuttering and nearly hysterical. "We-I had to get Harry healed, but we couldn't let _him_ run off. So...So Ginny is watching him."

Moiraine shot a look at Lan who strode out of the tent. Before leaving he placed a hand on Neville's shoulder. "It's alright. You did well, boy."

One of the gai'shain handed Neville a cup of tea, and explained at Moiraine's questioning look. "It will calm him. Allow him to sleep."

"Very well."

It was some time before Lan returned, a body slung over his shoulder, Aviendha and Ginny by his side.

"What did you find, Lan?"

"I found these two rather quickly and had them guide me to the body. It is...disturbing." A word like that from the stoic man was tantamount to an exclamation of doom. There was a slight thump as Lan deposited the body on the floor of the tent. He lined up the body's limbs, then turned and pulled a fresh shirt from his saddlebags.

Moiraine could see Sorilea bustling around the pair; reprimanding Aviendha for her spears and veil. The woman turned to the body and Moiraine looked up as the woman drew in a startled breath.

"I know this man." Sorilea murmured. _That_ was enough to slightly unhinge even Moiraine.

"You do?" She kept her voice cool, calm. Though she allowed a slight edge of ice to creep in.

"Yes. Nearly one hundred years ago I sent him to the blight to fight the Dark One."

"Why?" There was something here. Some grave issue, but Moiraine couldn't quite place her finger on it.

"It is what is done, what has always been done. Men who find they can wield the one power are sent off to the Blight to die with honor fighting the Dark One." Sorilea's explanation was patient, though hard. The woman didn't like being questioned.

Moiraine was thinking, searching her mind for the explanation she knew was there. The whole thing felt wrong. She kneeled next to the body and examined it. It was stiff and cold; the eyes were glazed in death. Everything about it seemed normal, but something still felt so _wrong_, it was vexing.

In a fit of pique, she pulled a number from the wisdom's book and pulled back the man's lips. Moiraine nearly fell over in shock as the pointed and filed teeth were revealed. She had only seen teeth like this on a few individuals in her lifetime. All had this same wrongness, all could channel. She gasped slightly. _The Light burn the Aiel for this!_

"You fools!" Moiraine hissed. Sorilea's gaze shifted to Moiraine, and her eyes glinted icily. She opened her mouth to speak but Moiraine cut over her. "Do you know what happens to people who can wield the one power that are captured by the Shadow? They are not killed, no, what happens is much worse. Thirteen women joined in a circle and thirteen myrddraal. They work together and _turn_ the subject to the shadow. It cannot be resisted. The person inside, their essence, is replaced by evil, by pure shadow."

Moiraine looked back at the two young women. It would do Ginny some good to hear this. To know that the man was already dead inside. More importantly, to know what to truly be afraid of.

"I cannot even begin to speculate on the damage that has been wrought over the centuries by this practice; on how many channelers have been given freely to the shadow." Without looking away from Aviendha and Ginny, she directed her next question to Sorilea. "How many men leave the Waste every year because they can channel?"

"No more than one or two from all the clans every year." Sorilea's voice was firm, though it held tones of fear and shame.

_Light! So many...and all can channel! If they all live as long as Aes Sedai that is one thing. If they live as long as Sorilea claims... _The tent quieted, and Moiraine's thoughts drifted for a few minutes, shocked by the implications of the night's discoveries.

She eventually settled back on something that had been said earlier, something nearly as important. _ Neville said the man had been doing something to Ginevra. Light, is she alright? We cannot afford to lose her yet._ _All three of them are too important now. Too _useful. Moiraine's mouth twisted slightly in distaste as she strode over to the women standing at the tent entrance and clasped her hands around Ginny's head. She pushed through her exhaustion and wove a delving around the woman in front of her. "Ginevra...Ginny?" The young woman's eyes snapped up to her own. "What did he do? Could you feel it? See it?"

"I feel alright now." Her voice was shaky with fear and tiredness. "B-but I tried to-to channel, t-tried to defend myself and Harry."

She stopped for a moment, then continued, stronger, with a hint of anger in her voice. "I couldn't. There was a wall. I could see _saidar_, hell, I could feel it...But I was blocked. I pushed on it, hit it...but I couldn't break it."

_Thank the light, just a shield._ The delving came back clear and Moiraine let out a breath in relief.. "Can you touch the source now?" A nimbus appeared around the young woman, then vanished. "Good. You said you were defending yourself and Harry. Where was Neville? He said he was there with you." Moiraine began questioning again. _There's something else here..._

Ginny's eyes flicked to Neville, then back to her own almost imperceptibly fast. "Yes, he was there, he was...just unconscious for a bit. I'd have to guess my screaming woke him up." Ginny frowned slightly.

_Hmm. She's not lying, not exactly...But there's something. I'll have to watch the boys more closely. _

Harry was a young man intimately acquainted with the slow rise to consciousness that comes after life threatening injury. Short periods of hazy visions, muted sounds, and dull touches, interspersed with dreams as clear as life.

* * *

Dreams were horrifying.

He was small. _Very _small. He was in a cozy house, and he was seated on a soft, warm chair. A fire was burning in the hearth and in front of him a man with messy black hair and wireframe glasses over hazel eyes was puffing smoke rings out of his wand for Harry to grab.

In the back of his head, the small voice of a sixteen year old boy began screaming.

He was lifted from his chair and turned around, his feet dangling as hands held him comfortably by the torso. In front of him was a beautiful auburn haired woman with almond-shaped, emerald-green eyes. She was laughing. It was a beautiful, throaty sound, and small creases formed at the corners of her eyes as her whole face lit up.

The small voice screamed.

"Lily. You mind if Sirius comes by after Harry's asleep?" Harry heard James call from some other room.

"No, no. Of course not, love! Seeing Pads is always a treat." His mother's voice was sweet and melodious.

"Pad!" Harry's infant self yelled.

"Yes, that's right, honey. Padfoot! You're going to be aaaall asleep by then." She cooed.

The small voice had stopped screaming. Now it was just sobbing.

James returned to the room and sat back across from his wife, their conversation dulled by an infant's disinterest. The homely scene was suddenly shattered by the wail of an alarm. James snatched his wand and dashed to a window.

The small voice was no longer sobbing, it was repeating a single word over and over: "No."

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! RUN!"

Lily was running, a remarkably calm Harry clutched to her chest. James' voice rising in volume as she ran.

The small voice was now silent. It knew what was next.

"I'll hold him off-" James yelled. There was a flash of emerald light and the thud of a body hitting the floor. A chocked sob wracked Lily as she burst into the nursery and put Harry in his cot, turned and drew her wand.

Harry tottered to his feet in curiosity as the door burst open and a tall figure, cackling with high pitched laughter strode through.

Lily and the small voice spoke in unison. "Bastard.'

More laughter followed. "It doesn't have to be this way, girl." The voice was high pitched and cold, like nails on a chalk board.

"No, no. Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" She was sobbing, screaming, and pleading.

"Stand aside you silly girl...you can live, fight on another day. Just stand aside. "

"No, no. Please no. Not Harry, please, _please_, not Harry. Take me...me instead, please!"

"Stand aside girl! Stand aside NOW!" The man was smiling, reveling in the moment.

"Not Harry! Please, don't-do-" The woman had been screaming. She was cut off by a flash of emerald. She dropped to the floor, her last word unfinished on her lips.

The man stood in front of him. Skin the color of fresh paper and eyes red as blood. "Ah, Harry Potter. You are a threat I shall end this very evening, securing myself for eons to cme. Yessss." He caressed the final word as it hissed between his teeth.

There was a flash of emerald light, and the world exploded.

* * *

Harry was in battle. A trolloc toppled to the ground where he had just lit the beast from hip to shoulder. Another fell, and another, then countless more fell as others exploded around him. One sliced at his leg, drawing a deep, thin, gash. Harry stumbled, but rose and continued to kill.

Then there was silence, and the fade. His sword and another's were slashing and flicking at the eyeless figure. A blade of midnight black met his own strike for strike, flashes of blue punctuating every clash.

Harry was on the ground, staring into the face of death.

"Such interesting dreams you have, Lews Therin." The voice was sweet and musical.

Harry's head snapped around. He was on the Hogwarts quidditch pitch, and there, not ten feet in front of him, was a woman. She was extraordinarily beautiful, with long, black, hair that fell to her waist, piercing black eyes, and porcelain skin. She looked like a raven-haired veela. Her dress was white and clung to every curve as if it had been sewn with every dimension in mind. A wide silver belt, cinched at her waist only served to accent her curves even more

"Wh-who're you?" Harry's mouth was dry.

She laughed at the question; it sounded like the tinkling of chimes. "As eloquent as ever. Both of your incarnations are backwards fools in this primitive age. They don't have your..._refinement_, but they do certainly have your spirit." Her tongue darted out and licked her lips. It was a startling pink against the blood red of her lips and the porcelain white of her skin.

Harry couldn't help but stare. It was entrancing and he barely noticed that she was now directly in front of him. No more than a hands breadth away. His thoughts were muddled but one managed to break through to his consciousness. _What in the hell is she on about?_

"No matter, you are mine, _will be_ mine, in every age, and I will mark you as mine!" Her eyes blazed with power and a hint of madness. Her mouth was parted slightly as she traced her finger around Harry's neck. Her nail was sharp, nearly drawing blood as she drew it down his neck to his clavicle. Suddenly, she smiled wickedly and dug her finger into the skin and muscle, the half-moon shaped cut squirting blood.

Harry screamed as the woman smiled on, the cut burned like a brand.

* * *

_The person who thought living here would be a good idea, was a son of a bitch with a sick sense of humor._ It was ridiculously hot; the sun was a molten ball high in the sky as the caravan rolled along to Alcair Dal. Harry was idly flicking his wand and rolling the thin rod of holly between his fingers as they rode. His brow was furrowed in thought behind the cowl of his shoufa.

"What's up, Harry?" Ginny's voice came from just behind him. She was taking one of her usual breaks from walking and was riding sidesaddle just behind him, one of her arms wrapped around his waist.

"Nothing, Ginny...I'm good, I'm fine." Harry replied, though of course he didn't feel it.

She snorted. "Bullshit." Harry's eyes widened slightly at her language. "You've been fiddling with your wand and acting like a scared cat ever since you woke up last week. We all know our wands don't work, so you've got to be thinking of something." She said slightly sarcastically with a hint of asperity. Then her voice softened. "Just...tell me what's up. I can help."

He sighed. "Look, Gin...Ginny, it's nothing I can't deal with." Harry closed his eyes. He _wanted_ to tell her, but she wouldn't believe him. Nobody ever listened. _They have good reason not to listen, especially after the Department of Mysteries. _

Harry could feel her tense behind him. "Look, Harry. I get it...remember I had Voldemort in my head for nearly _eight months_." Ginny's voice was icy and murderously cold. Harry, out of the corner of his eye could see Rand watching them curiously. The three of them didn't talk about their pasts much. "Nobody listened to me or wanted to talk. So...I get it, alright? Don't act like you're all alone. 'Cause you're not."

Harry was stunned for a few moments. _How did I not remember that? She spent an entire school year with Tom whispering in her ear and having blackouts. Her brothers, let alone me didn't listen then._ Harry realized that if anyone could possibly understand his thoughts last year and last week, it would probably be Ginny. She was the only other person who had even had similar experiences.

He felt her remove her arm from his waist and start to slip off the back of the horse. A small, angry voice in the recesses of his mind yelled at him. _Don't be a bitch, just man up and talk about it. If she thinks you're a nut then so be it._ "I-it was a dream." Harry blurted. Ginny stopped, and then hiked herself back onto the horse and replaced her arm.

Rand was now staring openly. _Probably thinks I'm nutters._ "At first, I was watching...the night my parents...you know." Ginny tightened her arm slightly in a one-sided hug. "Then I was in that fight again, killing trollocs and the fade, and before it faded I...I saw this _man._.. staring at me." Her arm tightened almost unbearably, but then quickly loosened. "But none of that is why I'm so, so...jittery. It was a bit like last year's dreams, except not." Harry paused for a moment, unsure if he should continue. _Man. Up. _"After that, I was on the quidditch pitch, and there was this woman there-"

"What did she look like?" Rand nearly snarled.

Harry wasn't quite sure how to take Rand's interest in the subject. "Err...white dress, black hair...hot as hell?" Ginny coughed behind him.

Rand lifted an eyebrow slightly. "Hot?"

"Oh...pretty, really pretty." Another cough. Rand sighed slightly and his face darkened with anger.

"Lanfear." Rand growled, then his voice grew slightly hesitant. "Did she...mark you? Or anything?"

Harry snapped his head around. _How did he know?_ _Maybe that bitch was in his dreams too._ "Yeah...yeah, how'd you know, Rand?"

"Let's just say that I am no stranger to people in my dreams." Rand growled.

Harry nodded slightly and turned back to the horizon, where he could see, as they topped a rise, a broad expanse of tents and wagons clustered in a long wide hollow. Some of the tents, spread roughly evenly among the hundreds of smaller tents were giant pavilions, large enough to stand under. Goods were displayed on blankets in the shade. Harry could see the glint of glazed ceramics and jewelry, as well as the bright colors of rugs and tapestries.

Another slight nudge from behind him pulled his attention away from the fair below him. "Feel better after talking about it?" Ginny's voice was just soft above a whisper, but Harry could hear the slight inflection that said: 'I told you so.'

"Definitely. I was just afraid-"

"That everyone would think you're barmy? That no one would listen?"

"Well, yeah... Especially after what happened at the Department..."

"Harry," she sounded almost sad, "you can talk to me about anything, and I'll always listen, alright?"

He wasn't sure what to say. Only Sirius had ever listened to _anything_ he had to say, even if his godfather hadn't always taken him seriously. _The three of us are stuck here, she basically has no choice. _He thought bitterly, though the thought was shoved aside when another wormed its way in: _She understands though. Maybe she does actually want to listen. No reason not to give it a shot, eh?_

Harry grinned. "Yeah. Thanks Ginny... You too, Gin. Alright?"

Harry could almost feel her smile as she hugged his back. He turned his head back to Rand as he heard the man in a muttered conversation with Rhuarc.

"...violation of custom! Even Shaido should have more honor than this!" Rhuarc was whispering vehemently. Harry could hear the other warriors on the hilltop grumbling in agreement. At a whispered word from Rhuarc one of the men began loping down the hill, back towards the approaching column of Taardad Aiel. "Did you expect this?" Rhuarc continued. "Is that why you summoned the entire clan?"

"Not this exactly, Rhuarc." Rand muttered darkly.

"What's wrong? Seems like Rhuarc's a bit gutted about something." Neville whispered from where he had just ridden up.

"Dunno." Ginny replied.

"I think I've got a pretty damn good idea..." Harry said, trailing off as he did. Out over the fairgrounds he could see a large number of what he assumed were Shaido, veiling themselves. They wanted a fight, it looked like.

"That could be messy." The Warder's voice was soft. "But not yet, I think."

"Indeed, Aan'allein." Rhuarc agreed.

Harry watched as Rand's sharp eyes flicked from person to person in the small gathering on the hilltop. Finally settling on Bair as she spoke.

"Be cautious, Rand al'Thor." Rand's eyes narrowed slightly. "A tired man makes mistakes. You cannot afford to make mistakes today." Bair's voice became hard and angry. "_We_ cannot afford for you to make mistakes. The Aiel cannot afford it." Silence reigned as she finished. _I wish I knew the prophecy that deals with Rand and the Aiel. Must be something to get that old bat in a tizzy._

The quiet was shattered by the creak and groan of Kadere's wagons as they trundled past, heading towards the tents in the hollow. Jasin Natael passed, flicking the reins of the wagon he and Kielle shared.

Harry could feel Natael's eyes on him. He felt as though he could feel Kielle's unseen eyes as well. It reminded Harry of one evening no more than three days ago.

* * *

_Harry and Neville were seated around the small fire they had set just outside their tent. His muscles burned. Even just four days after waking up from nearly a week in a coma, Lan was working Neville and himself into the ground. _Feel's kinda good though._ Harry mused while staring into the flames and massaging his sore arms. _

_He looked up at a small noise and noticed Jasin Natael making his way towards them. The gleeman was a rather aristocratic individual for a man who traveled around telling stories. He told good ones, though some of them seemed strangely familiar and some of the songs were eerily reminiscent of things Harry had heard on the telly or radio. _

_"Am I intruding boys?" Natael asked while looking down his nose at the young men by the fire. Neville simply gestured to a spot just across the fire. The man looked disdainfully down at the bare earth, but settled himself on his cloak anyway. "Both of you seem like fairly well read young men, especially considering you recognized the piece I performed yesterday evening."_

_Harry cringed slightly. Neville, of all people, was a fan of muggle music and literature. Apparently it had to do with his Uncle Algie; however, Neville's fascination had caused him to recognize a 'poem' that Natael had chanted and played along to. Apparently it had made it through however many ages in a fairly recognizable form. Admittedly, John Lennon's plea for peace had turned into a sad recrimination for man's sins, but it was essentially the same. Neville's familiarity with the 'poem' had immediately drawn questioning glances from both Kielle and Natael, as well as well hidden glares from Moiraine._

_Neville chuckled nervously. "Yeah, it was...err...an old folk song in my village. Used to sing it on Wintersday?" He ended the sentence with his voice in a high pitch as if he were asking a question. _

Son of a bitch, Nev, you can't lie worth a damn!_ Harry thought angrily, while giving the other boy a glare out of the corner of his eye._

_Natael's eyebrows both shot up. "Indeed." He paused for a moment and tapped his chin, as if searching for something in his mind. "Maybe you two have heard this piece? It's a poem, but when it is sung in high chant it just becomes _marvelous._ It's short, though do not think any less of it." The gleeman cleared his throat before puffing up his chest. Then he began to sing the short piece; his voice just on the edge of mournful._

_"Home is behind,  
__The world ahead;  
__And there are many paths to tread._

_Through Shadow,  
__To the edge of night;  
__Until the stars are all alight._

_Mist and Shadow,  
__Cloud and Shade.  
__All shall fade._

_All shall..._

_Fade."_

_Harry shivered slightly. No, he didn't recognize that, whatever it was, but damn if it didn't chill him to his bones. Still, it was a beautiful piece. "No, mister Natael, it doesn't ring any bells."_

_"Ring any bells?" The man asked curiously._

_"It doesn't remind me of anything." Harry explained. "Beautiful, though a little sad. Eerie too." Harry met Neville's eyes briefly, and he knew the other was thinking the same thing Harry was: beautiful, yes, but absolutely terrifying._

_"Any idea where it comes from?" Neville asked, apparently trying to steer the conversation to a more mundane topic. _

_"The Age before the Age of Legends, my dear boy." Natael said patronizingly. "The same time as that other piece you apparently recognized, hence my curiosity."_

_"Ah, well sorry mate." Harry smiled slightly as if in commiseration._

_"No matter. You have heard the tales of Lenn and Salya? Mosk and Merk the giants who battled around the world? Elsbet, Queen of All? Materese the Healer? If you have not, I will happily tell the tales. They are most wonderful."_

_"Yes, we both have." Harry lied easily. "There was a storyteller in our home village, used to tell all the kids stories at festivals."_

"Ah, well then. If there is anything else...?"

_"No, no thank you mister Natael. We're both tired, probably a good time to catch some shut eye." Neville finished Harry's lie quickly._

_"Good evening, then, boys. I shall go see if I may entertain the Dragon Reborn." Natael rose, then pompously swished his patched cloak around before disappearing into the night._

_Harry and Neville shared a wordless glance before smothering the fire and turning in to their bedrolls._

* * *

Harry was torn from the unsettling memory by Egwene who was talking quietly, but not inaudibly so, to Rand. "Do not keep to yourself, Rand. You do not fight alone. Others do battle too."

_Yes, that's true, but when other's fight for you they die. _Harry thought cynically.

"What do you mean?" Rand asked after a moment.

_What is he dense?_

"I fight for you, as does Egwene." Moiraine said quickly, and a look passed between the two women. "People fight for you who do not know it, any more than you know it, or know them. This goes for both of you!" Moiraine was looking at himself now, he realized. "Neither of you know what it is to force the form of the Pattern, do you? The ripples of your actions, the waves of your very existence, spread across the Pattern to change the weave of threads you will never know. The battle is far from yours alone; do not let it become so. Regardless, you, Rand," she nodded at Rand, "and now you as well, Harry, stand at the heart of this web. Should either of you fall and fail, _all_ fails and falls."

_Merlin, she could give Dumbledore a run for his money!_

She continued for a moment. "Since I cannot go with you, let Lan accompany both of you. One more pair of eyes to watch your back." The Warder turned slightly and frowned at her. He obviously didn't want to leave her alone with Shaido veiled for killing nearby.

"Let Lan guard Harry. _Far Dareis Mai_ carries my honor. Unless of course they wish to carry Harry's as well?" Harry turned slightly to see the warrior-women all don wide grins.

"He may not be the son of a maiden, but his mother died with honor; we shall carry his for her." Harry blinked at the maiden's, Adelin's, statement. Then he grinned slightly and nodded at her.

Moiraine's mouth tightened at the corners ever so slightly; the equivalent of a glare for the Aes Sedai, however, Lan relaxed slightly. "Very well, she said. Though he heard her whisper ever so slightly as she turned away. "Just be careful, boys."

_Well at least she cares, but she's still as manipulative as the old man._

"Just be on your guard, Egwene, Moiraine," Rand replied, "all of you, just be on your guard." He was looking at something. Harry followed his gaze to the peddlers. Kielle and Isendre were glaring daggers at each other, nothing unusual; Natael and Kadere were attempting to pacify the two women.

"Even the Shaido will not bother Aes Sedai," Amys said firmly, "any more than they will bother Bair, Melaine, or myself. Some things are beyond even them."

"Just be on your guard!" Rand snapped. Everyone stared, even Rhuarc. Harry met Rand's eyes briefly, before the man glanced back at the peddlers before glazing slightly as the man turned inward.

_What is he worried about? Not much gets him riled, so it must be something. Does it have to do with the damn peddlers? Admittedly, they're a creepy bunch, but not much more._

"What about me, mate?" Mat had picked up some of Harry's and Neville's slang and speech patterns over the last month. He was rolling a gold coin across his fingers absentmindedly as he spoke. "You boys gonna have any objection to me?" He still sounded like an American though.

"You want to? I'd thought you wanted to stay out here at the fair." Rand replied.

Mat frowned slightly and glanced down at the Shaido lines. "I have a feeling it won't be so easy to get out of here if you get your ass killed. Burn me if you don't stick me in the rendering kettle one way or..._Dovienya._"

Harry blinked as Mat flipped the coin into the air and tried to snatch it. When it landed on the hard pack, it bounced over itself twice, landing on it's edge each time, before improbably rolling down hill on its edge. It rolled along, bouncing over cracks and rocks as it went, glittering in the broiling sun. It made it to the peddlers wagon, where it finally fell over.

"Burn me..." Mat muttered, at the same time as Neville mumbled. "Fuckin' hell."

"You can come." Rand stated after a moment staring at the coin. Haryr saw him glance at himself and Rhuarc. "Isn't it about time, Rhuarc?"

The chief looked over his shoulder for a moment. "Indeed, just about..." He paused as pipes began to play, and Aielmen began to sing. "...now."

Aielmen didn't sing after they reached manhood. Battle and grief were the exceptions after an Aiel had taken up the spear. Harry could hear the Maiden's singing as well, as they surrounded Rand and himself, but deep baritone voices swallowed them.

"_Wash the spears-While the sun climbs high.  
__Wash the spears-While the sun falls low."_

They started down the hill, but the Wise Ones motioned Ginny off his horse before he could get far. She crossed her arms for a moment before huffing and sliding off the rump of the animal. Harry whispered to Neville before they started moving again. "Stay here, Nev. Watch her back, alright?"

"Sure mate, I'll keep her from running headlong into danger for ya." Neville chuckled slightly. "Just you do the same, alright? Keep yourself safe."

Harry smiled slightly. "Yeah...yeah will do, mate. Just watch her, alright?"

Neville nodded and Harry began moving again and quickly caught up to Rand. Half a mile to his left and right Taardad Aiel appeared, running in synch to their song in two gigantic columns, spears readied and faces veiled; endless columns rolling on towards the mountains.

"_Wash the spears-Who fears to die?  
__Wash the spears-No one I know!_ "

Down in the camp, Harry could see Aiel from the other clans staring in shock. The peddlers were allowing their horses to get loose as they dove under their wagons. He noticed Kielle and Natael staring at him and Rand.

Harry heard Rand chuckle slightly and mutter something under his breath as he looked back at the hilltop. Harry looked back to see what had the man laughing at a time like this. Everyone on the hilltop, bar Ginny and Neville, was staring at Rand. _Well at least it isn't just me this time. _Harry thought wryly.

A small delegation emerged as they approached the fairground. A dozen or so women in skirts and blouses, with gold and ivory, and as many men in _cadin'sor_, unarmed but for a smaller belt knife. They took a position that forced Rand and the other's to halt and apparently ignored the Taardad Aiel streaming by on either side.

_"Wash the spears-While life holds true.  
__Wash the spears-Until life ends._

_Wash the spears..._

_Wash the spears-Life is a dream.  
__Wash the spears-All dreams must end."_

"I did not expect this of you and the Taardad, Rhuarc." A heavily muscled, graying man stated. "Even from the Shaido, it was a surprise...but you!"

"Times are changing, Manhuin." The chief replied simply. "How long have the Shaido been here?"

"They arrived at dawn." Rand grimaced and the man, Manhuin, flashed his gaze to him for a moment. "Why they traveled through the night, who can say?" He frowned slightly at Rand then looked slightly quizzically at Mat and Harry. "Strange times indeed."

"Who all else is here?" Rhuarc asked.

"We Goshien, then the Shaarad," the man grimaced, "arrived first. The Chareen and Tomanelle came later. As I said, the Shaido arrived last. Sevanna convinced the chiefs to go in only a short time ago. Most did not see the need to meet today."

A woman with hair as blonde as Adelin's and a broad face stepped up, fists on her hips with a rattle of gold and ivory bracelets. "We hear He Who Comes With the Dawn has come from Rhuidean." She was frowning at Rand, Mat, and Harry. along with the whole delegation. "We hear that the _Car'a'carn _will be announced today.

"Then someone spoke you a prophecy." Rand said quietly as he heeled Jeade'en. The delegation moved out of his way, still staring as Harry and Mat followed.

"_Dovienya."_ Mat murmured fervently.

_Luck, I think it means. _Harry chuckled slightly. _I bet that man would guzzle _Felix Felicis_ like it was water, right now._

"_Mia dovienya nesodhin soende."_ Mat continued in the same fervent voice. Whatever it was, it sounded like a prayer to Harry.

The columns of Taardad were now surrounding the Shaido from a distance of a few hundred paces, still veiled and singing. They didn't move, only stood there, fifteen or twenty times the Shaido numbers, and sang, their voices thundering in chant against the mountain walls.

"_Wash the spears-Till shade is gone.  
__Wash the spears-Till water turns dry._

_Wash the spears-How long from home?  
__Wash the spears-Until I die!"_

Riding just behind and to Rand's right, Harry followed him closer to the Shaido. Harry saw Rhuarc begin to raise his own veil. "No, Rhuarc,, we are not here to fight them." Rand stated softly, but loud enough for the Shaido to hear.

"You are right, Rand al'Thor, and wise to say it. No honor goes to the Shaido this day." Rhuarc raised his voice further, leaving his veil hanging. "No honor to the Shaido!"

Harry turned his head to see black veils lowering by the hundreds behind them.

Mat was whispering fervently to his left. "Blood and ashes! Oh blood and bloody ashes!"

_"Wash the spears-Till the sun grows cold.  
__Wash the spears-Till water runs free._

_Wash the spears..."_

The Shaido shifted slightly as if nervous. Fighting was one thing, but suicide was another. Slowly they parted, moving back to let Rand, Harry, and Mat ride through. Harry heard Rand sigh in relief and began to ride through, Mat, Harry, and the Maidens surrounding him.

_"Wash the spears-While I breathe.  
__Wash the spears-My steel is bright._

_Wash the Spears..."_

The once booming chant faded to nothing behind them as they stepped into the steep gorge. It was twisting and shadowed as it ran into the mountain, and for long minutes the loudest sounds were the _click_ of hooves on stone and the whisper of boots. Suddenly, the canyon gave way to Alcair Dal.

The canyon was almost perfectly round, the grey wall sloped all the way around, except at the far end where it curled like a breaking wave. Clusters of Aiel doted the slopes, heads and faces bare. The Taardad who had come began to split off by society into the various clusters around the bowl. Harry noticed only Rhuarc's Red Shields and the Maidens with Harry and Rand remained with them and the Taardad chiefs.

Harry noticed the sept chiefs of the other clans all sat cross-legged by clan before a deep ledge beneath the curling overhang. Six small groups, one of Maidens, stood between the sept chiefs and the ledge. Apparently they had come for the honor of the clan chiefs. Six, though only five were for the chiefs themselves. The Maidens were apparently there for Sevanna, whom according to Ginny - who had heard it second hand from Aviendha - had never been _Far Dareis Mai._ And there, standing with the sept chiefs was Couladin.

Harry could hear Rhuarc muttering nearby about Sevanna putting herself in chief's business as he looked up at the ledge where a blonde woman stood. She was bedecked in jewelry; more even than the woman back at the tents, and had a grey shawl draped over her arms. Nearby on the ledge, were four clan chiefs, unarmed save a long belt knife. One of them - Bael of the Goshien - was the tallest man that Harry had ever seen, taller even than Rand or Rhuarc, who were not short men.

"... allow him to speak!" Sevanna was shouting, her voice tight and angry. "I demand it as my right! Until a new chief is chosen I stand for Suladric and the Shaido. I demand my right!"

"You stand for Suladric until a new chief is chosen, roofmistress." A white-haired man spoke in irascible tones. Han chief of the Tomanelle, according to Rand and Rhuarc. He looked like a piece of dark, wrinkled leather. He was short, for an Aiel, though still taller than Harry or Neville. "I have no doubt you know the rights of a roofmistress well, but perhaps not those of a clan chief. Only one who has entered Rhuidean may speak here, and you...but the dreamwalkers have told our Wise Ones Couladin was refused the right to enter Rhuidean."

Harry could see the man in question shout something angrily, but apparently the canyon's trick only worked on the ledge. Another man, his hair half white - Erim of the Chareen apparently - sharply cut Couladin off. "Have you no respect for law and custom, Shaido? No honor? Stay silent here."

Eyes began to turn to them, curious about the newcomers on horseback in front of the sept chiefs, with two of them surrounded by Maidens. They were all silent.

"We have gathered to hear a great announcement," Bael stated, his voice a deep baritone, "when all the clans have come. If all you wish to speak of is letting Couladin speak, Sevanna, then I will go back to my tents and wait."

"Nay," one of the others stated, "while we are here, let us speak of water."

"Fools!" Sevanna all but shrieked.

It was then that the men and lone woman on the ledge noticed the arrivals. They watched them approach silently. Harry noticed Sevanna had a very calculating look in her eyes. She, unlike most Aielwomen Harry had met had her blouse undone very low and he was finding it rather difficult to not stare. Her image was spoiled, however, by being the youngest among the relatively old and wise clan chiefs.

Rand dismounted and strode with Rhuarc straight to the ledge. Harry and Mat waited below with Rhuarc's Red Shields and the Maidens. The two climbed up to growing murmurs around the canyon.

"What is the meaning of this, Rhuarc?" Han scowled, his wrinkles deepening. "Why do you bring this wetlander here, among us? If you will not kill him, at least send him down so he does not stand among us."

"Rand al'Thor, this man, has come to speak to us. Did the dreamwalkers not tell you he would come with me?" A loud murmur greeted Rhuarc's words.

"Melaine said many things." Bael replied cautiously. "That He Who Comes With the Dawn had come from Rhuidean. You cannot mean..." He trailed off, his eyes widening slightly.

"If this _wetlander_ can speak, so too can Couladin." Sevanna interjected quickly. The man in question scrambled up the ledge, his face scarlet in anger.

"It is time to be done with worn-down customs!" The fiery man shouted as he came to stand at the top of the ledge and stripped his coat. "I am He Who Comes With the Dawn!" Couladin screamed as he thrust his arms in the air, exposing sinuous, glittering goldern dragons wound around both arms.

Harry's eyebrows shot skyward. _Oh this won't end well. How the hell did he get those anyway!? He never went to Rhuidean._ Harry seized _saidin_, reveling in the security feel of the source as his stomach wanted to turn from the taint.

"I am the _Car'a'carn_!" The roar that greeted his pronouncement from the rest of the canyon was deafening. The sept chiefs leaping to their feet shouting joyously as the rest. The clan chiefs, including Rhuarc, all looked stunned. Sevanna only smiled smugly.

Harry could see Adelin hefting her spears as if she expected to fight her way out, and Mat was motioning surreptitiously towards Rand's saddle and the exit. He also noticed Rand quietly rolling up his sleeves even as Couladin continued to strut.

"I bring great change!" The man continued to scream. "According to the prophecy, I will bring new days! We will cross the Dragonwall and take back what we are owed! The wetlanders are soft and rich! They will pay their due! You remember the wealth we brought back twenty years ago! This time it will all be ours! This time..."

* * *

Rand allowed the idiot's tirade to wash over him like waves on rock. _How had this happened?_ He continued to slowly roll his sleeves up. The other chiefs were watching him now. He could see Harry watching him from below, eyes flicking to Couladin. Rand could feel _saidin_ filling the boy - no, young man - and knew he was ready for whatever was to come. Still, Rand patted his shirt pocket, feeling the fat man _angreal_ he had stowed there.

He calmly walked to the front of the ledge and raised his arms skyward, allowing the dragons wound around his forearms to glitter and sparkle in the light. It took a moment for the assembled Aiel to notice the glittering tattoo. The silence came in increments, but it was total.

He smirked inwardly as Sevanna's mouth dropped open. Obviously Couladin had not thought he would follow, or that he would get by his guards, and had not told her. _How did the man get them?_

Couladin continued to rant and strut into the silence, his arms waving to make sure all saw. "... we will not stop with the oathbreakers! We will take all the lands from here to the Aryth! The wetla-" Suddenly he stopped and became aware of the silence and what had caused it. "Wetlander! Look at what he wears! He is nothing more than a wetlander!"

Rand could see Harry begin to weave binds of air and a gag. He shook his head and the other man's weaves vanished. "Yes. A wetlander." Rand agreed. He did not raise his voice, he simply spoke clearly for all to hear.

"You see! He pronounces himself!" Couladin raved.

The Shaido looked entirely flummoxed for a moment, then grinned triumphantly. Then Rand continued. "What does the Prophecy of Rhuidean say, Couladin? 'Born of the blood.' My mother was a Maiden: Shaiel of the Chumai Taardad." _But who was she really? Who did the Maiden's find that day?_ "My father was Janduin of the Iron Mountain sept, clan chief of the Taardad Aiel." _I was raised by Tam al'Thor. He is my father. He found me, loved me, raised me; though I wish I could have known you, Janduin. _"' Born of the blood,'" Rand repeated, "'but raised by those not of the blood.' Where did the Wise Ones send to look for me? Into your holds and homes? No, they sent across the Dragonwall, to where I was raised according to prophecy."

The clan chiefs all reluctantly nodded. There was still the matter of Couladin also bearing the markings, but they acknowledged Rand for what he said, at the very least.

Couladin, however, never wavered in his confidence, and sneered openly at Rand. "How much has the prophecy changed through the ages? How long since it was first spoken?" He still unnecessarily shouted. "My mother was of _Far Dareis Mai_ before she gave up the spear! How much has changed, or been changed!? It is said we once served Aes Sedai. I say they mean to bind us once again! This man-this wetlander! He was chosen because he resembles us! He is none of our blood! He comes with an Aes Sedai lead around his neck and brings naught but a _boy_ into our gathering! He brought this boy from Rhuidean! The Wise Ones greeted him - them! - as they would a brother or a son! You have heard of Wise Ones who can do things beyond belief. The dreamwalkers used the One Power to keep me from him! They use the One Power as Aes Sedai are said to do! They conspire to bind us with fakery and deception!"

"You speak madness Couladin!" Rhuarc said as he strode up beside Rand. "Couladin never went to Rhuidean. I heard the Wise Ones deny him. Rand al'Thor did go. I saw him leave Chaendaer, and he returned, marked as you see."

"Why did they refuse me!?" Couladin snarled, his face turning the color of puce. "The Aes Sedai told them to. One of _them_ went to Rhuidean went down with him! That is how he has them, by Aes Sedai witchery! My brother, Muradin died in Rhuidean, murdered by this wetlander, and the Wise Ones let him walk free! I went down to Rhuidean by night and did not reveal myself because this is the proper place! _I_ am the _Car'a'carn_!"

Rand began to laugh internally. Lies with just enough truth was all Couladin spouted. There was one truth, one truth that he would _not_ know. One that would break the Aiel.

'You say you went to Rhuidean without permission?" Han demanded, his face stormy. Bael, towering over the others looked just as disapproving. Erim and Jheram only slightly less so. Couladin had an answer, however.

"Yes! HE Who Comes With the Dawn brings change! So says prophecy! _I _am change! Did I not arrive here with the dawn?"

_Everything here stands on the edge of a knife. Everyone here stands on the edge, which way they fall will determine the way the world ends. _Harry was still watching Rand intently. The man had dozens of weaves of spirit and fire prepared. _If I cannot convince them, we won't leave here alive, but it looks like he will damn well try. _Mat motioned again to Jeade'en. _No, no I can't even do that. It's now or never, and I need these people. I need to use them. _He chuckled darkly to himself._ As Harry says: 'It's time for shit to hit the fan.'_

"Rhuidean, Couladin?" He said, his calm voice booming off the canyon walls, filling the space. "You claim to have gone. What did you see there, Couladin?

"All know Rhuidean is not to be spoken of." Couladin shot back, his head snapping around.

"We may go apart," Erim offered calmly, "and speak of these things in private so that you may illumine us-"

"I will speak of it with no one." The Shaido man interrupted quickly. "Rhuidean is a holy place. What I saw was a divine viewing! _I _am holy! These," he waved his arms, "make me holy!"

"I walked a ruined city. I walked among glass columns beneath _Avendesora._" Rand's voice was calm and quiet, but it thrummed with power, the words carried to every ear. _I am sorry that I am about to do this. But it must be done._ "I saw the history of the Aiel through my ancestors' eyes. What did you see, Couladin? I am not afraid to speak. Are you?" The man shook with rage, his face so red as to be nearly purple. The muscles of his jaw stood out as he clenched his teeth.

Rhuarc sighed in resignation to his right. He heard Han speak from behind. "We must go apart for this."

Couladin did not realize his loss of control of the situation. Sevanna, however, noticed. "Rhuarc has told him of this! One of his wives is a dreamwalker; one who aids Aes Sedai!" She spat.

"He would not!" Han barked. "Rhuarc is a man of honor, a clan chief! Do not speak of things you do not know, girl!"

"I am not afraid to speak!" Couladin shouted. "None may call me a coward. I, too, saw our past through the eyes of my ancestors! I saw our coming to the Three-fold Land! I saw our past glory! A glory we shall have again!"

_Damn you for a fool. _"I saw the Age of Legends." Rand announced quietly, though all could hear. "I saw the entirety of the Aiel journey to the Three-fold Land." Rhuarc grabbed his arm, but he shook the man off, and turned to fix each chief with a look of sorrow and regret. _This must happen. It has been fated, and for that, I am sorry._ "I saw the Aiel when they were known as the Da'shain Aiel. Followers of the Way of the Leaf."

"No!" The shout was deafening and rose throughout the canyon. The Aiel spread throughout the canyon shook spear points in the air, the gleaming steel reflecting sunlight like a glittering snowfield. Adelin and the maidens stared up at him, faces stricken. He could see Mat shouting at him, waving vigorously at his saddle, and Harry, who was sitting his horse stoically, his eyes regarding Rand with a cold look, a look that said all: _So that is how it must be. This is your war, use what you've got._ Rand nodded, and Harry returned it silently.

"Liar!" Couladin screamed. The canyon carried the man's wrath and triumph over the shouts. Sevanna, whom apparently understood the gravity of the situation was shaking her head frantically at Couladin. The man pushed her away. He knew Rand had been down to the fog shrouded city, and the man couldn't possibly believe half his own lies, unless he was more severely deluded than he looked. All the same, he couldn't accept what Rand had to say. "He proves his own falsehood! We have always been warriors, from time immemorieal!"

The chiefs stood in grieving silence as the roar swelled around them and Couladin strutted back and forth, waving his arms, basking in the adulation. They knew now, and they hated what was to come.

"Why do you do this, Rand al'Thor?" Rhuarc said softly from beside him. "Do you not see why we do not-"

Rand cut him off. "It is what must be done, Rhuarc. _'He will take you back, and he will destroy you.'_ Couladin has forced my hand, and as the man said, I bring change; for better or for worse, I do not know. All I know is that what will be, will be, Rhuarc, and that is something even _I_ cannot change."

"They cannot face it." Bael murmured.

"I am sorry. Take some solace though. _'remannt of a remnant shall he save, and they shall live.'_"

"What will be, will be." Rhuarc murmured.

Couladin was striding back and forth with a vapid smile on his face, claiming the glory of the Aiel for all time, completely unaware that the clan chiefs were staring silently at his back. Sevanna stood, her bosom heaving with furious breaths. _Oh, she knows._

"Rand al'Thor," Bael spoke loudly and clearly, "speaks the truth. He is the _Car'acarn_. Rand al'Thor is He Who Comes With the Dawn." The entire canyon went silent for a moment. Couladin spun, his eyes wide with fury as he snatched his knife from his belt.

The other chiefs all grimply repeated: "Rand al'Thor is He Who Comes With the Dawn." Rhuarc, the last in line added, in a voice too quiet for any but those on the ledge to hear, "And may the Light have mercy on us."

The silence stretched for a long moment, then another. Couladin suddenly leaped down and snatched a spear from a stunned _Seia Doon_. He hurled it straight at Rand. The spear disintegrated in an instant as Harry wove Fire and Earth into it, even as Adelin leaped up to shield Rand from the blow.

Chaos and pandemonium erupted as men and Maidens began shoving. The Jindo Maidens grabbed a silent, though apparently slightly startled, Harry and joined Adelin in a circle around the two of them, forming a screen. Sevanna was attempting to snatch Couladin away, even as he shoved against her, trying to attack Rand and the Maidens. A majority of the Taardad chieftains joined the Maidens, even as others continued to shout and rage. Mat joined them, brandishing his black-hafted spear, shouting curses from Harry, from the common tongue, and more from what had to be the Old Tongue.

* * *

It was absolute chaos. Harry could hear Rhuarc and the other chieftains shouting to restore order over the broiling masses. He could see veils lifted and spears flashing and stabbing. He felt Rand seize _saidin_. Harry could feel it flood into the man and gaped slightly at the amount the man was pulling in. He pulled in more for himself as a response, as if Rand would drink it all himself.

Suddenly Rand began to weave. Harry had no idea what he was doing, but he watched in fascination as veritable _cable_ thick strands of Water, Air, and Spirit stretched across the sky that could be seen in the bowl. Lightning began to crack and boom above Alcair Dal; wind began to rush and howl through the canyon, drowning the Aiel's shouts. Harry could see some beginning to look around in wonder and fear, the Maidens nearby remained focused on the enemy. The air was still hot and dry, even as a misty rain began to fall, driven into the Aiel who had never seen such a thing in the Waste.

The Aiel, one and all, began to look to the sky, and to Rand who, Harry noticed, had his arms raised like some messiah out of a book. The rain became heavier, and heavier, moment after moment, until it was a downpour. The water swept over him and Rand. It matted his black hair to his head and his tunic to his back. His trousers felt as though they weighed a ton. Harry couldn't see more than fifty paces around.

Then, Harry felt a chill. There was a sudden blast of air, and a dome expanded around Rand and Harry. It forced others away. Adelin was pounding on the clear dome, desperate to get inside.

There, across from Rand was _her._ _Lanfear._ "You utter fool! Playing your games with these parody of Aiel. Wasting all of my planning and effort!" Her white, form hugging, silver belted dress was perfectly dry. Black tresses untouched by a sinly drop, cascaded down her back. Her dark eyes were staring at Rand with fury.

"I didn't expect you to reveal yourself so soon." Rand said quietly.

"Where is he? I know you are not alone."

Her beautiful mouth tightened slightly.

"Don't bother to hide it." Rand chided. "I knew from the start. I've been expecting it from the day I left Tear. Out here, obviously fixated on the Aiel and Rhuidean, an easy target. What? Did you think I was naive enough to think that none of _you_ would come after me? No, the trap is _mine_, _Mierin_. Where is he!" The last was a shout.

Harry was shocked to say the least, but he understood. What shocked him more is what _Lanfear _said next.

"I brought him to teach you, both of you! But you are so stubborn! He was always one to leap to a new plan if the first proved to difficult to complete. Now he thinks he has found something better in that _city_ and is off to claim it!"

_Rhuidean! What is there? Could he have found a way to where we came from? _He had to get there, had to stop him. His mind raced, looking for anything to get there.

Lanfear continued to talk as Harry's mind raced. "What could he find in Rhuidean worth my coming into the open? When both of you agree to stand with me will be time enough." Her eyes flicked back and forth between them. "Remember what I told you, Lews Therin." Her voice took on a heavily seductive note. Her lips curved into a full smile and her eyes grew wide. "To great _sa'angreal_. With those we could challenge even the Great-" She stopped and fixated her eyes on Harry.

He did something. He wasn't sure what, but he just did it. He _folded_ reality, then punched a hole through it. There!

A hole in the air appeared. Through it Harry could see _Avendesora_, the columns, and the objects strewn about the courtyard. There was a flash of red and white as Rand sprinted through the hole in the air.

Lanfear looked at him with curiosity painted on her angelic features. "It appears you do know a few things, whether you remember them, or just _do_ them is another matter." The dome collapsed and the rain began pouring down, though she remained dry. She motioned towards the hole.

Harry leaped through the hole, allowing it to close behind him. As he began racing through Rhuidean in search of Rand and Asmodean he thought he saw a flash of blonde and heard a shout.

* * *

**A/N:** Aaaaand a cliff! Hope you enjoyed the 12k word super chapter. A large portion of this is _very_ similar and some identical to the Alcair Dal chapter of TSR. I needed a way to get Asmodean to teach Rand, Harry, and Nev, so it had to happen. It's also the most important chapter for like the next two books, and arguably the most important chapter in general, I couldn't just abandon the events. Not only does Rand gain a teacher, but her recruits (most of) the Aiel.

A minor disclaimer here, I don't own anything from Lord of the Rings. It is entirely the property of J.R.R. Tolkien. I snagged part of 'The Walking Song' for Natael(asmodean's) little poetry reading.

If there's any mistakes please point them out to me.


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